2 Weeks Notice
by awes0me-punk
Summary: CM Punk is the new WWE Champion, but he doesn't want all the extra baggage that comes along with it, including an assistant that takes orders from him. How will both of them deal with each other, a moody, chip on his shoulder kind of guy with a timid, polite lady who's so nice she could make butter melt? Punk/OC
1. Chapter 1

**i am so sorry i started a new story, I just couldn't help myself, this idea has been nagging me and poking me at the back of my mind - i don't know if you guys think this will be a good story, check it out first and see what you think. i'll continue with my other stories as best as i can, thank you lovelies and enjoy the story :)))) review/follow/fav**

**Monday July 25****th**** 2011**  
"But Paul, I don't _need_ an assistant, I am capable of achieving things on – my - own you know, just because – "  
"You're the WWE champion doesn't mean you should get an assistant I know, I get that, but it's in the contract, right there in black and white. Mr McMahon has said so himself and right now, it looks like I'm not always gonna be here with you for very long, until creative think of something else."  
"I don't care what old man Vinny has to say – and I know this new storyline with Brock and Triple H is your main focus and I don't really care, do what you want but I'm not having a goddamn assistant that's going to follow me around like a fucking dog. Fuck that."  
Ruby Soho came blasting through Punk's headphones as he grabbed his WWE Championship title and threw it over his back, lugging it as he made his way out of the arena. A week had passed since his win over John Cena, his voice had been heard my millions, his passion and desire to wrestle on live television, and of course to own Vincent K. McMahon's ass. His grudge against the suit had been planted ever since his best friends had gotten fired from the company, for no legitimate reason or explanation from the big man himself, he wanted to make him pay, he wanted to walk out. Did he? No he didn't – he wanted to be the WWE Champion and shove it up Vinny's asshole, he didn't want to win the championship belt for more fame, fortune and fans – he wanted recognition, he wanted to do what he loved, he wanted change. How was he supposed to change anything when a stupid pencil skirt wearing suit was going to follow him around all day? If Punk wanted coffee, he's get it himself, if he wanted his arse wiping, he would do it himself.

The cool night air nipped at his skin as he made his way towards the hotel room he was staying at – the only thing that was keeping him sane these past few months was Amy, the firey red head would be waiting on his bed for him, ready to give him a hug and kiss as soon as he strolled in. The thought caused a smile to tug at his lips, he was a lucky man, wrestling always came first and Amy understood that perfectly, she occasionally would come along with him on his tours when she wasn't busy promoting her radio show or touring with her band.  
"Hey Phi – shit, what's wrong?" Punk threw his belt across the room like it was trash, along with his gym bag. Clenching his jaw, Punk swivelled round to see Amy perched at the end of the bed, her face etched with innocence and concern.  
"They want me to have a fucking assistant following me around all day. I thought once I became champion, I would have more freedom to speak my mind about things and change whatever the hell I wanted to change, but no – I didn't sign up for this shit! More appearances on talk shows and radio's, more pointless interviews from people who know nothing about wrestling – I could live with a tour bus and jet and the meet and greet with fans, but there has to be a fucking limit!"  
Amy's brows furrowed, a soothing arm wrapping itself around Punk's tattooed one, "You need to relax, why is it so bad to have one? It will save you from doing little insignificant things and leave you to concentrate on bigger and better stuff, look I know it goes against every fibre in your body, but it's a sacrifice you're going to have to make. You know that, I know that, and unfortunately they know that – if it means you get to keep the gold then you're just gonna have to swallow your pride and suck it up. It's the easy way, but you've had way worse happen to you, this is supposed to help you. Just thinking about it, don't make a decision right now, just relax Phil, you should be happy, that championship is all you've ever wanted." Punk heaved a sigh, everything that came spilling from Amy's mouth was right. The thought just made his insides squirm and cringe internally – this certainly wasn't what he signed up for.  
"Amy, I don't want to turn into one of those corporate bastards, everyone one of them has an assistant."  
"You're not one of them and you never will be. I know you Phil," Amy spoke softly, caressing his scratchy beard, "They're not trying to punish you, they're honestly trying to help the new WWE Champion, you're reading way too much into this," Phil released himself from Amy's grasp and made his way towards the hotel bathroom, shutting the door in the process. Punk ran a hand through his tousled hair, sweat speckled on his forehead. What was really bothering him? The prospect of change – scared him, he was no longer that dirty punk kid that everyone avoided like he was trash, he went from wrestling in his backyard to becoming the W – W – E Champion.  
"Phil, come on out, come to bed," Amy's voice snapping Punk out of his thought, echoing around the hotel room and into the bathroom.  
"It's not like I'm going to sleep anyway," Punk grinned calling out – he splashed cold water onto his face, stripping down to his shorts before getting into firm hotel bed. Automatically Amy's head rested on his shoulder as his wounded around her tattooed arm and hers snaking around his bare torso.  
"It'll be okay Phil, you have nothing to worried about," her voice barely audible in the dark, Punk responded by tightening his grip around Amy as she snaked hers around his torso. He heaved a heavy sigh, this was going to be another sleepless night and tomorrow was going to be another frustrating day.

**Tuesday 26****th**** July 2011  
**Phoebe wasn't expecting to get a call back on this job, it's not what she wanted and it was certainly very unexpected, she had initially signed up for creative writer and instead landed a job assisting WWE Champion – this had not only sent her career back a few steps but it had also meant that she would be leaving her family for something she wasn't entirely happy with. Creative writing would've meant travelling the word and creating storyline enticing millions of viewers, instead she would be running around fetching coffee and organising flight bookings for the rich and famous. She wasn't as enthusiastic when she saw that John Cena was the champion, however Money In The Bank rolled over thus sparking an interest to stay, she was a fan but it wasn't the only reason – she figured if she stayed long enough maybe she could work her way up to the top. It made sense that she didn't get the job she initially wanted, she had just finished university and had hardly any experience, you could even go so far as to say she was lucky they had even offered her an alternate. Stephanie and Paul were extremely kind to her on first visit, for confidentially reasons they never told her who she'd be assisting, but now she knew and even though this job wasn't ideal it still gave her a buzz of excitement, not only will she be working for a company she admired, she would be working for CM Punk.

Punk had just managed to fit in a quick work out, nothing too strenuous or intense, just some lifts and a good 30 minutes on the cross trainer. The thought of having an assistant had washed over him, he hadn't give it much thought according to Paul he was supposed to be meeting the lucky bitch today.  
Stephanie Levesque kissed her teeth and tapped an impatient foot as she waited for the straight-edge superstar to walk through the door. For some bizarre reason Paul had the utmost respect for the greasy haired kid, whereas Stephanie begged to differ, there feelings weren't exactly mutual and she felt sorry for Phoebe who would have to be stuck with the moody prick. Punk wasn't at all respectful to many people which worried her seeing as she knew Phoebe would eventually have a future within the company – she could potentially have the power to change Punk's future here. If it wasn't for Paul she would've hired her straight away for her to be part of creative team – but Paul had a valid point, she had absolutely no experience, she was a fish out of water regardless of her being a fan of the company.  
"You took your time," the billion dollar princess snapped as Punk had his back turned towards her, he shut to door and turned to look at Steph.  
"Always a pleasure Mrs H-H-H," Punk had a toothy grin stitched across his face, Phoebe sensed tension that made her squirm awkwardly, there intense gaze was almost mistaken for a stare down in the ring which caused her to clear her throat.  
"Punk this is your assistant, Phoebe Walker," Phoebe stood up from her chair and strode over towards the 6ft tattooed wrestler holding her trembling hand out to shake, Punk took it briskly - Punk had to strain himself from rolling his eyes, she was clearly a fan and an awkward one at that.  
"Mr Brooks, Punk, Sir, Phil, I –"  
"It's Punk." He spoke, almost too bluntly, Stephanie bit the inside of her cheek, hoping that Phoebe was stronger than she looked, Phoebe slipped her hand out of his grasp and looked down at her feet.  
"Have you been an assistant before?" Punk asked, and Phoebe shook her head. Great, Punk thought – an inexperienced, probably a college drop out looking for something _easy_.  
"I'm pretty new to this, so I apologize in advance if I do something wrong or just mark out on you," Phoebe let out an awkward laugh in which Stephanie reciprocated only to be followed by a cold stare from Punk.  
"Right you two, I should be off – I have a meeting with the Board of Directors so, Phoebe it was really great meeting you, good luck on your first day. Punk, always a pleasure," Stephanie set off walking out of her office, the clicking of heels slowly fading.  
Phoebe tucked a lock of loose brunette hair behind her ear, waiting for Punk to say something, she felt as though Punk glare was burning a hole through her head. He let his gaze trail down the young woman, he had been distracted while Vinny's daughter was in the room but now he took the time to see who would be tagging along with him for the next few months. Her long, dark hair had been straightened it, it looked real but you never know – her makeup was subtle but noticeable and her attire was very predictable for an assistant. That didn't mean he didn't like what he was seeing. A cream coloured, silk blouse accompanied by a pencil skirt that rid up to her mid-thigh, with a blazer hugging her at the waist, no doubt those 5 inch stiletto heels were murdering her feet.  
"Would you like me to get you some coffee, water – anything?" Phoebe's voice startled him and his eyes trailed back to look at her timid face, she had kept her distance away from him and had a notepad and pen ready in her hands. Phoebe noticed how tired looking CM Punk looked, she could see it in his body language and in his eyes.  
"I need you to go find John Cena, and tell him to meet me at the catering area at 2," that seemed simple enough and easy, Punk hoped that she wouldn't fuck this up, Phoebe was a little startled but she was glad that there was no messing around and that they just got straight to business, she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He didn't at all seem enthusiastic about this whole arrangement, yet again – neither was she.

She had asked at least 7 different people if they knew where John Cena was, he was impossible to find and what had annoyed her even more was that Punk gave her no indication as to where he might be. The arena was like a goddamn maze, she kept looking out behind her and around her as she ambled her way down various corridors. Deciding on calling Punk she fished out her phone while walking -  
She began dialing the number Punk had given her until she slammed face first into some toned, tanned abs, she didn't have much time to respond she crashed into somebody. Locking her phone she turned to stare at a pair of piercing blue eyes. He was incredibly tall, and not to mention – _shirtless. _She opened her mouth to apologize but was silenced by the cool, raspy voice of the Viper.  
"Want to watch where you going?" Phoebe backed away a couple of steps, still quite shaken up from the encounter, she bit back a sarcastic comment and thought it was wise not to cause trouble on her first day. She then took notice of the man stood next to Randy Orton and was ecstatic to see that she finally found John Cena.  
"Give her a break Orton, _she looks new_," Phoebe noticed that he rolled his eyes but then turned her attention to Cena.  
"Phoebe," she outstretched her hand for John who willingly shook it, "CM Punk wanted me to tell you to meet him in the catering area at 2 o'clock, I believe he wants to discuss tonight's promo with you," The second WWE Champion raised an eyebrow at her, he was surprised to see this girl as Punk's assistant, she must be having a blast with him, the thought alone made him laugh.  
"Will do. So, you're his assistant huh? Where's my sexy assistant huh?" Phoebe blushed immediately, but she swore she could hear Randy scoff at the comment.  
"I believe it's because Punk won Money In The Bank, but I'm sure you'll be getting your very own assistant in no time, besides I know the results for Summerslam," Phoebe turned on her heel, walking away from the pair, smirking as they moaned as she left them hanging.  
Randy turned towards her friend, chuckling while he spoke, "She's not gonna survive, she's too soft, and well, she's going to be the first victim of all of Punk's constant back lashes, moody and sarcastic comments. A nice girl like her shouldn't be here."

"Sorry Punk, it took me ages to find John Cena, but I did find him," Punk shrugged, acknowledging Phoebe's presence.  
"That's nice." Punk blurted out instantly – he was obviously bust texting somebody or tweeting, god knows what. Phoebe stood waiting patiently for the Champion, she couldn't help but feel out of place but the feeling was brushed aside – it was her first day after all.  
"Is there anything you'd like me to do Punk?" Phoebe asked politely after waiting in silence for 5 minutes.  
"No, just leave me alone - why don't you walk around for a bit and I'll call you when I need you?" Punk ushered her out of the door and slammed the door shut as he returned back into his room. He needed someone familiar to talk to, not John, Miz, Daniel or Randy – Colt.  
Meanwhile Phoebe couldn't help but feel a little flustered, and confused and maybe just maybe a little pissed off. The thought of getting paid to do nothing sounded delightful, yet she felt like an alien standing there on her own in place she wasn't at all familiar with.  
"Hello again," Phoebe jumped, startled by the voice that came from behind her, she pivoted round to see John Cena leaning against the wall, he smirked as Phoebe gained back her composure.  
"Punk kicked you out huh?" She responded with a nod, straightening herself out and wafting a few strands of hair out of her face.  
"He's … different. I've never met a person like him, and I don't know if I'm warming to the idea, even though I'm a big fan. Guilty as charged."  
"Punk didn't show you around, huh?" This time Phoebe responded by shaking her head.  
"I've still got time before I need to meet Punk, why don't we grab a coffee and I'll show you around?" Phoebe took a moment to realise what John had just said, still wondering if she had heard him right.  
"Relax, it's only coffee not a date, besides I'll bring some of the other superstars round if that makes you comfortable," that didn't make her comfortable at all, "Great, come on, if you're lucky I might treat you to a doughnut."


	2. Chapter 2

**new chapter woohoo, a lot of references that probably only me and chaz will understand but it probably shouldn't matter so shout out to the lovely gurl that is chantelle :)  
enjoy, review, fav, follow w/e**

John and Phoebe settled themselves at a table that was already occupied with Zack Ryder, Daniel Bryan, Evan Bourne and Kofi Kingston, each of them enjoying large steaming cup of coffee and a doughnuts. "So much for your diet guys, don't all of you have a match tonight?" Cena teased, grabbing his own jam filled one. "Take one Phoebe, guys this is Punk's assistant." She laughed, helping herself to a sugar coated one, "Glad to see you guys aren't on any crazy diets, you all eat like normal people."  
"Wait till you see Punk, are you going to be travelling with me and him on the bus?" Phoebe shook her head, laughing softly. "You're travelling with him?"  
"He asked me when he found out he was getting a bus, you can get pretty lonely sometimes."  
"I really doubt it, don't think I'd want to spend that much time with him anyway, and the feeling seems pretty mutual, no offence to you Kofi." Kofi just grinned at her, knowing exactly what she was talking about, Punk was definitely not the friendliest of people, especially people he just met and were flashy suit wearing people hired from the WWE for corporate reasons.  
"You just need to give him some time," Bryan's voice muffled by the doughnut in his mouth. "Let me guess, though – you've been a fan your entire life."  
"Well, yes I have actually, I almost shaking when I had my interview with Stephanie and Hunter, I didn't originally want this job, I applied for creative, I have a degree in creative writing but I didn't really expect a call for an interview, I have absolutely no experience, Stephanie offered me this job and I took it willingly hoping that one day I'll eventually make my way up to becoming what I originally planned to do. I don't know if I'm regretting this yet but it's been 3 hours so it's early days.  
"You'll love it here," Zack mumbled between bites, scoffing doughnut after doughnut into his mouth, I haven't looked back since." I sipped my coffee admiring the banter between the superstars.

Phoebe stood backstage as John and Punk shared a few heated words with each other, of course it was just a promo but she could feel the intensity and the reality of these two superstars battling it out as to who was actually the real WWE Champion. The director called out cut and the two Champions shared a laugh; Friday Night Smackdown carried on as normal as Christian and John Morrison went one on one with each other.  
"So who do you think's gonna win Summerslam?" John smirked, distracting Phoebe from her thoughts.  
"I'd rather not jinx it," Phoebe replied shyly. "Besides, I don't really want to know." Phoebe turned away from John to see Punk yet again texting away on his phone, her immediate thought was why was he always on that thing, he might as well have been glued to the device. Did he not understand the concept of real human interaction?  
"Say, why is Punk always on his cellphone? He is _always_ on that thing," Phoebe muttered, exaggerating the always.  
"Usually Colt, maybe Samao, perhaps Adam or Amy, or his sisters, or Natalie, can't forget about her – you know for a guy who doesn't like many people he sure is popular," the frustration in Phoebe's face didn't go unnoticed by John. "Don't worry about Punk, he can be a stubborn asshole, but he's just not used to this. He's now the underdog of the WWE and he has his own assistant, 5 years ago he probably would never have seen this coming." Phoebe glanced a John for a moment, taking in what he had just said about Punk, regardless of what John had just told him she still saw him for the short-tempered, moody man that he was. It hadn't even been 4 hours and she couldn't fathom why he was acting the way he was. He didn't know her, he didn't know who she was and didn't even want to bother – yeah sure she was here to do a job, not make friends but there was a fine line between getting down to work and being a total ass about the whole situation.  
"Phoebe, can you get me 2 tickets for Friday's hockey game, Chicago vs Washington Caps, make sure they're prime level," Punk spoke as he approached John and Phoebe. Her brows knitted together as she remembered Punk's schedule for the week, she was sure that he had a house show that day, she rooted through her stack of papers until she found exactly what she wanted.  
"Punk, you have a house show this Friday, I don't think – "  
"Just get the goddamn tickets, you don't think I know my own schedule, I'll be there like I am every other night," Punk growled before heading the opposite direction towards the locker rooms.  
"If I wasn't his assistant or if I wasn't 5"3 I'd open a can of whoop ass of him I don't even give a shit," Phoebe said through clenched teeth, John grinned at the fuming brunette shrugging his soldiers as she groaned.  
"How's the weather outside Jonathan?" A head of bleached blonde hair appeared at the side of the 2nd WWE Champion, tanned arms and luminous pink shirt, Dolph Ziggler or as my niece likes to call him Dolphin. "Chatting up more women Cena, I could've sworn you had a wife."  
"You're just mad because your girlfriend has the hots for me," Cena winked, "Not wrinkly old Vickie of course, Nikki – and Dolph this is Phoebe, Punk's assistant."  
"Punk has an _assistant_? Has the world gone crazy? You sure do put the _ass_ in assistant," Phoebe didn't know whether to feel flattered or irritated, she usually took any compliments she got, "How's that working out for you babe?"  
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me babe, and honestly not that great considering it's my first day, nice shirt by the way, my niece and I have always wanted one."  
"What about _my_ shirts?" John whined, tugging at his Never Give Up tee that he was wearing right now. Me and Dolph exchanged looks before I extended my hand to shake his, he grabbed it willingly, smirking at my firm squeeze.  
"Listen you two I got meet Paul, I'll catch you later though, see you Phoebs," John bid the two and left them in an awkward stance, exchanging a few glances here and there.  
"So Punk's assistant huh? You're gonna need some real thick skin when you're dealing with him," Dolph sneered at her, Phoebe not at all impressed by Dolph's tone.  
"Shouldn't you be somewhere, with Vickie or Jack, I don't know," she started walking away from him until she heard footsteps trailing behind her.  
"I'm sorry, you really need to loosen up, you know."  
"Well excuse me, my boss clearly doesn't appreciate my assistance and I'm pretty sure he hates me, I have tall tanned hot blonde men harassing me!" Phoebe turned away from him but stopped when she heard him speak.  
"Okay I'm sorry! Let's hope you have a better day tomorrow, and I'll stop harassing you – how's that?" She turned back round to look at Dolph, who had his hand held out just like she did, "Nick."  
"Phoebe," she reciprocated, smiling sweetly, the two broke into a fit of laughter, "Sorry for being so hostile."  
"That's the last thing I'd say you were, Phoebe can I say something?"  
"You're going to say it anyway, so spill."  
"Don't take it personally, but I meant what I said when I said you're gonna need tough skin when you're working with Punk, not just him but when you're around here backstage, some guys, aren't as nice as me, " Phoebe rolled her eyes, but knew that Nick was being serious, "You actually seem to be nice and decent unlike a lot of people here, but I noticed how nervous and shy and a timid you get, if you're looking to advance your career here, then you know you're gonna need a strong head on you. Let's be honest, Punk doesn't need an assistant, so in the meantime do what you gotta do and you know, don't take shit from Punk. I might be completely wrong, I've known you for what 10 minutes, you could punch me in the face for all I know, but if you're gonna take anything from what I've said, remember you're gonna have to have really thick skin to hack it here. I'd hate to see people run over you because they think you're weak."

"Where have you been? Me and Kofi have been waiting for over 15 minutes!" Phoebe sprinted carrying her 5 inch heels in one hand and a set of keys in the other, she already knew she was late and she knew what she was in for, Kofi shrugged his soldiers feeling slightly awkward as Punk glared daggers at his new assistant, she gave him a small smile in which he returned it.  
"I'll just unlock the bus and give you a quick tour," Phoebe muttered, shaking uncontrollably as she put the key in the lock. She felt Punk's exasperated short breaths of frustration and the occasional tut. Eventually she got it open and stepped into the new and extremely large bus – it could almost have been mistaken for a tour bus, it was just big enough for 5 people to stay in. Television and DVR when you first walk in, I'm guessing Punk asked for an X Box.  
"Shotgun!" Kofi yelled, jumping straight onto a cream coloured couch, "This is nice, I could get used to this." Phoebe beckoned Kofi to get up from the coach and to follow her further into the bus.  
"Microwave, cooker, fridge, bathroom upfront and here are the bunks," she motioned further on, there were at least six of them, 3 on each side – there were extremely compact but when once opened it was clear that they were big enough for the large wrestlers that roamed the roster.  
"Pretty rock 'n 'roll, can't wait to tell Lars," Punk muttered to Kofi, the two shared a laugh but the tour wasn't over yet as Phoebe led them further into the bus.  
"And finally we have a bedroom, it's pretty spacious you know, there's only one so you could take turns. It's nice, there's even a shower right here. Closest space over here, a cupboard here."  
"Right, thanks Penelope – "  
"It's Phoebe."  
"Yeah okay, you don't have to leave, you just can't stay here, so yeah – SEE YA BYE."


	3. Chapter 3

**enjoy lovelies :) fav/follow/review hope you like it!**

**Thursday 28****th**** July 2011**  
"Here are the tickets you wanted, and the decaf coffee for you, espresso for you Kofi," Phoebe placed the contents onto the table, Punk retrieving his cup without so much as a thank you.  
"You don't have to get me coffee, Phoebs, but thank you – this _kofi_ sure is good," he winked at Phoebe, an inside joke that didn't go unnoticed by Punk as he glared at Kofi.  
"You can go now, I'll let you know if I need anything else," Punk spoke bitterly, watching Phoebe go until whipping his head round back to Kofi. "Really?"  
"Don't "really" me Punk, Mike isn't here – what's your problem man, she's just doing her job and you're treating her like – "  
"Trash? Crap? Shit? Yeah I know, and she needs it, she needs to toughen up. She's a college graduate that's probably had everything handed to her on a silver platter, god knows how she's gonna survive in this place. Paul tells me she wants to be a creative writer, like that's gonna happen. She's gonna soon realise what it's like around here, and she needs to be prepared for when she gets the boot. The pipebomb was supposed to open people's eyes about this company, I just hate -  
"Suits? She's not a suit Phil, you don't even know her and you haven't even bothered. She's a fan, just like us and the people in that arena. " Kofi's voice was soon drained by the blaring music that came from Punk's headphones, lost in his own thoughts - a lot of people thought he was hard on Phoebe, but he didn't think so. If she wanted to make it in this business she needed to toughen up her skin, and despite the countless times Punk bitched at her for doing something wrong, or for her being late, she still looked like she was ready to cry, so clearly he was not being hard enough on her, she was just a damn assistant, she didn't mean anything, to anyone.

**Friday 29****th**** July 2011**  
"Sorry I'm late, I got caught up – "  
"I don't, really care and I don't want to hear your excuses, when I ask you to be somewhere on time, I expect you to be there on time, I don't have time to be waiting around for you. You should really consider investing in a watch or something." Punk was naïve to expect some sort of retort or back chat, never in a million years would she say anything back – even though he knew he had pissed her off. Phoebe stood stammering on the spot, recalling her thoughts as Punk's words caught her off guard.  
"I know you don't want to hear an apology from me; but regardless I am sorry that I was late, and I promise that I won't be late again - I honestly was held up in traffic, but I'll leave early and – " Punk rolled his eyes, scoffing at the 5"3 in front him, squabbling as she attempted to smooth down her hair and arrange her oversized glasses that were now askew on her small face, he waited silently, smirking at her till eventually she spoke, her voice hoarse.  
"I have arranged for a car to pick you and Amy up after the game has finished, she will be dropped off at the hotel, you will need to change into your ring gear as soon as possible since the game finishes quite late and you won't have time to change once we get to the arena. Any questions?"  
"Yeah… Can you please kindly fuck off now?"  
Phoebe looked down at the pavement, cursing internally however still trembling in fear from her boss, "Certainly _sir_, enjoy your game."

Phoebe pushed back her curls into a neat bun so that all of her hair was out of her face, her curls had eventually transpired from her extremely over straightened hair, her makeup was slowly wearing off and all she wanted to do was hibernate for at least 100 years. It hadn't even been a week and she was done, 100% done – she admired Punk for so long, loved everything about him, his ethics, his morals, his background, his story, his personality, and in return to all of that admiration all she got was a snidy, condescending, patronising jerk who despised her for no good reason.

Over one shoulder absently she gazed at the television from her hotel room bed. She had 4 hours to spare, it wasn't like Punk made her do anything strenuous, she was just exhausted from Punk's attitude towards her. After every time she would think, what's in it for her, she didn't need to put up with this, but when she came back to reality, she knew why she put up with it, she just wanted that creative writers job even more. Her mother had been calling her every single day of the week, and every single time she had lied straight to her face, she told her how the first week had gone so smoothly, how everyone was incredibly nice and that she had made lots of friends however all she really wanted to say was – _I just want to come home Mom. _

She had slipped out of her heels and office wear and decided to put on an oversized t-shirt, Punk's room was next door whom he had been sharing with his girlfriend Amy all week. She had come to the conclusion that Punk was a). incredibly big b). really good and c). was able to _give I to her. _Phoebe couldn't help feel a slight twinge of jealousy, however it was always swept away when Punk made some sort of arrogant comment. She decided to lie down for a while, sleep was incredibly hard to come by these days, Punk would _never_ let her sleep on the bus, regardless of how tired she was, she always had to wait for a plane, sometimes 2 and there was always a delay or cancellation.

An hour had gone by and it felt as though she had only closed her eyes for a second, until she heard a rapid knock on her door – climbing off of her bed and opened her door without checking the peephole, she was immediately startled to see Dolph on the other side. "Dolph?" She remembered her run in with him on her first day, he was surprisingly a douchebag and charming at the same time, but she was still confused as to why he would seek her out.  
"I'm sorry, Phoebe did I wake you up, at 4:15 in the afternoon? Nice t-shirt by the way, almost detracts away from your incredibly short legs."  
Phoebe glanced down realizing her major flaw of having extremely stubby short legs, her t-shirt however was a Back To The Future t-shirt , I'm guessing he was a fan. She rolled her eyes and sighed, "Yeah thanks you know we can't all be "perfect" or whatever, excuse me for being short you don't have to look at me, and I was trying to get some sleep before the Smackdown show. Is there something you needed, besides annoying me and staring at me like I'm butchers meat?" Phoebe sighed again and went to shut the door, but Dolph stopped it with one hand. "I'm sorry, but erm well I was bored and you know I'm guessing you haven't made any friends yet -  
"Gee thanks."  
"So, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out, but if you want to sleep that's okay I can leave you alone and we can do this again sometime."  
She hesitated just a moment before stepping aside. "Don't make me regret this Dolph, there are other things I would prefer doing right now but if you insist, I've spent all this week just going out of my mind, I don't really want to burden you with my problems but you know this was supposed to be my alone time, but because I'm _nice_, come on it."  
Dolph grinned as he stepped in her room and made himself comfortable in the chair opposite the television, turning it on without so much as a care in the world. "Make yourself at home, it's fine I guess."  
"Shush! Barefoot Contessa is on!" She let the door swing closed and walked back to her spot under the covers, her eyes glued to the bleached blonde head that was so engrossed with the chef, Ina that was clearly all he was fascinated about. It wasn't until three commercial breaks later that he spoke.  
"Barefoot Contessa, really?"  
"You really get to know a person until you watch a cooking show with them, now I know you're probably a terrible cook, so you know one day you should let me make you dinner." Phoebe stared at him for a few second, blinking to see if she had heard him correctly. Dolph Ziggler wanted to cook dinner for the measly assistant of CM Punk, he didn't even know her and the last time the spoke he was incredibly rude and Phoebe didn't know if she wanted to see him again.  
She lifted an eyebrow, "You want to have dinner with me? You don't even know me, you don't even think I belong in the WWE, and you have a girlfriend."  
Dolph shrugged, turning back to the television "We broke up." I immediately felt guilty, but then slightly irritated, was I just a rebound then? "I never said you didn't belong, I was just trying to open your eyes, and yes I want to, it doesn't have to be a date, we'll just talk and eat, I make a mean chapolte, you really need to try it sometime."  
Phoebe just looked at Dolph, her mouth slightly open, but the show came back on, and his attention was fixated on watching Ina cook devil's food cake, she watched as she smothered the cake with dark chocolate frosting. He let his own attention wander back to the television, but was soon interrupted by the sound of giggling. "What are you-" he turned to see her laughing at him.  
"I think I'll have dinner with you Dolph, since you asked so kindly like a real gentleman, besides I would love to try your chapolte, to be honest you really don't seem like the chef type guy."  
Dolph rolled his eyes. "You've got me all wrong baby. Tomorrow night good for you?"  
Phoebe couldn't help the euphoria that was bubbling inside of her, I guess she had made a friend after all. "I'll have to check with Punk I'm sorry, he might need me for something I don't know what but he'll come up with something, hopefully however I will let you know if I can."  
"Great, tomorrow we shall dine, Ziggler style."

"Where is he, the game has finished and we're already late?" Phoebe began drumming her fingers irritated as she waited for her boss and his girlfriend to emerge from the stadium, the house show was going to start in an hour and if they were unfortunate traffic would hit they were doomed, and then it were her balls that would be chopped, not Punk's but hers. A couple minutes passed and she saw the love sick couple casually strolling from the arena along with a bunch of other fans.  
Phoebe felt an uneasy sensation bubbling inside the pit of her stomach, she felt livid and envious as she saw Punk's hands intertwined with the firey red head, she was stunning, simply stunning and naturally pretty – she had lovely lean legs that were on display, and why weren't they? She _gazed_ into Punk's eyes and he did with hers – it was undeniable that they were in love and Phoebe couldn't fathom why she was feeling so agitated with the thought. _They have been friends for almost a decade, you haven't even known him 10 minutes, rule number one never get involved with your boss. _The feeling passed as the pair plopped down into the car, Phoebe had left her hair in a bun and re touched on her make up while Dolph stared, surprisingly he was great company and had even chosen her a new outfit to wear down to Smackdown, she had brought the bag full of Punk's ring gear and sat silently as the two talked amongst themselves. Punk was clearly happy which indicated that his team won, from what I could gather Amy didn't know a thing about hockey however she accompanied him like a good girlfriend should.

"So, Phoebe right? I'm Amy don't think we've officially met but I hear you're a pain in the ass," she stuck her hand out and I had no idea if this was a joke and I was supposed to take it, "It's okay we're cool," I glanced at Punk who had rolled his eyes but was gazing outside the window, I took Amy's hand and shook it, firm and warm. "Hello, sorry I'm a huge fan – I remember every single Raw and Smackdown moment, you were so inspiring, sorry for marking."  
"That's quite alright, I remember every single one too," she smiled and then we began engaging in a light conversation, Punk was silent which gave me the impression that he didn't appreciate me talking to his girlfriend. Eventually the cab arrived at the hotel and I was forced to stand outside while I said goodbye to Amy. After a couple of seconds of her departure and of me standing awkwardly on the sidewalk I heard a loud "Fuck!" coming from the car.  
Punk flung the door open and ushered me inside, "You forgot my fucking kick pads, and my elbow band and tape, and are you fucking stupid?! THESE TRUNKS DO NOT GO WITH THESE KICKPAD COVERS, FOR FUCK'S SAKE PHOEBE YOU HAD ONE JOB! Go back to my room and just get the plain black gear with the white stars, PLAIN BLACK DO YOU GET THAT?!" Phoebe didn't respond instead she kicked off her 5" heels and sprinted towards the elevator, pushing the button repeatedly until she heard the familiar ding, she rushed in and pressed the 6th floor where all the WWE talent were currently residing in. She couldn't believe she fucked up one job, just one simple task – how the fuck was she going to cope with creative when they would be expecting ten times more the work and effort that Punk was requiring – she needed to quickly recover and calm herself down, she just needed to get the black gear with white stars, the kick pads, elbow band and tape then rush back down to the cab that was waiting outside. One little mistake and she knew she was in for it, and she knew for at least the whole journey to the arena, all she would be hearing was how she was stupid, incompetent and just too dumb to do anything, _that she would never accomplish anything_.

The elevator had finally reached the floor and she sprinted towards the room Punk was staying at, luckily she had a key so she didn't have to mither Amy to open the door. Palms sweaty and hands trembling she slid the key into the lock until a green light beamed, she didn't want to alarm Amy so she slid in as quietly as she could however still picking up the pace, she just needed to find Punk's duffel bag where he kept the rest of his wrestling gear, extra kickpads, and tape etc. Punk had booked a penthouse, which meant that there was an official lounging room, 2 bedrooms, god knows why he needed 2 bedrooms since I was staying in a separate smaller, poorer one – 2 bathrooms, that were ensuite and a kitchen, the place was truly worthy of a Superstar – she honestly couldn't imagine Punk staying in a place like this, yet here he was.  
Her eyes scanned the room until it landed on the bag that lay in the corner of the room, open like she had left it, she briskly walked towards it searching for exactly the right colours that Punk specifically asked for, when she was happy she closed the bag and grabbed everything she needed. Just as she was about to leave, Phoebe heard something, something that made her curious and slightly worried. She was guessing it was Amy, and the noise was coming from hers and Punk's bedroom, Phoebe wasn't one for being nosey but she was definitely curious. _Maybe Amy really misses Punk and just thought, hey no one's here I'll just have a little me time_. That was probably not the case and Phoebe knew it, she was just hoping that was what was happening. She immediately cursed herself when she saw the bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she could make out the back of a man, while Amy lay sprawled all over the bed, her legs apart, her naked body glistening with sweat.  
Oh dear god.


	4. Chapter 4

**new update, here you guys go, how awesome is Raw at the moment, Money In The Bank was just as awesome, although my favourite otp's were officially broken, thanks a lot WWE!  
Here's Chapter 4 guys, enjoy, fav/follow/review/SPREAD THE WORD**

Phoebe tried denying what she saw for many different reasons, one being she thought Amy was genuinely a nice person and saw the best in Punk, something Phoebe did not; two, Punk didn't need this right now, he was a focused wrestler with the WWE Championship and he was _in_ _love,_ anything I said about what I saw would be pointless, who was he going to believe, his long term girlfriend who he's known from over a decade, or a 20 something assistant who he's only known for a week? Three, she wanted to believe it was just the one time and something Punk would forgive and forget, somewhere inside of her she knew how hurt Punk would be and the thought twisted her insides. No one deserves to be cheated on, have their heart stomped on after putting all their trust in one person … but _she needed to tell him_, it wasn't a case of not wanting to or didn't want to, she had to.  
By the time she reached down to the lobby, she had realised that she had held everyone up, they were going to be late and most importantly, she was going to tell him. After the match perhaps, she didn't want it to affect him during the match, emotionally.  
"What took you so long?" Phoebe sat in the front passenger seat, giving Punk privacy so he could change into his ring gear.  
"Sorry Punk, it won't happen again, let's go," luckily the driver knew certain detours, the drive to the arena was quiet and it was driving her insane. She kept contemplating on whether it was the right thing to do, _of course it was the right thing to do_. Hands trembling and mouth dry, Phoebe unlocked her car door and rushed to open Punk's side – he had slipped on sweatpants and a Best In The World t-shirt but she knew he was wearing his ring gear underneath. Something stirred inside Phoebe, as an image of Punk in just his trunks flashed furiously in her mind.  
"For fuck's sake we're late, could you hurry up please," Phoebe noticed Punk getting agitated as she saw a sea of fans surrounding the arena, Punk would never get by without signing a few autographs and taking a few pictures but now was not the time, thinking quickly she threw him n hoodie and a pair of sunglasses, since the tattoos were covered Punk was good to go and walked around the hyperventilating fans without getting noticed.

As soon as the two got inside the arena, Punk jogged off without saying goodbye, preparing for a match he had against John Cena, a definite crowd pleaser. He sensed the awkward attitude from Phoebe but brushed it off, she was always strange and noticed it the moment he met her, Kofi's words echoed in his mind, _she's a fan just us and the people in that arena_. She was a creep and shitty assistant that's what she was. She got us late into the arena, she clearly didn't know that much about wrestling and quite frankly she was sloppy and didn't know much about anything. Aside from the overbearing and suffocating assistant, he had to go find Cena, the WWE Creative Team weren't just quite finished yet with the babyface vs the underdog.  
"Hey Punk, Stephanie wants to see you," a stage hand notified Punk and to be honest, he didn't know how to look at it, either creative thought of something _creative _for once, or .. well Punk didn't want to think about the or. Punk turned up the volume on his IPhone and made his way to Stephanie's office, _let's see what you have for me bitch._

Phoebe stood idly by as she saw the end of John Cena vs CM Punk, Punk won and Cena rolled out of the ring, the GTS must've hit him pretty hard since it took John almost 5 minutes to get up from the floor and hobble up the ramp and back into the gorilla area. Punk shared a couple of words on how he was going to do the same thing at Summerslam and how he deserved the Championship, the usual Punk spiel to get the crowd screaming and whooping. Punk went to visit a couple of fans, having a chat and then decided to exit the main stage and walk into the gorilla were Cena was waiting.  
"So you're going to GTS me at Summerslam then?" John winked, slapping Punk on the back, he immediately regretted doing since his hand was now soaked in sweat.  
"Yeah I guess so," John noticed something was bothering him, he could tell during the match up that he was not in his usual sadistic, game mode – but just wanted the match to end as soon as possible.  
"Buddy, what's wrong?" John asked, lowering his voice, he thought Punk was happy now that WWE had signed him as champion.  
"Creative haven't told you yet?"  
"Told me what?"  
"Punk, I really need to talk to y…" Phoebe approached the two men, she couldn't help but noticed how sexy the two of them looked, while one in jean shorts flashed a charming grin, the other growled in frustration.  
"We were having a private conversation and you interrupted us! Don't _fucking_ interrupt me again, you – "  
"Hey man, it's cool, leave the little lady alone. What were you telling me?" Punk didn't want to tell John while Phoebe was around, she wasn't someone he wanted in her life, not as friend and not even as an employee, this was none of her business and she would find out with everyone else, _just like a fan_.  
"I'll tell you later," Punk said through gritted teeth, he walked away from John, while he cast a sympathetic look towards Phoebe, _poor girl_ he thought.  
"Punk, wait up, I have something important to tell you and I know you're angry at me right now but I have to tell you this," they had reached Punk's bus, Kofi was already inside and she knew all Punk wanted to do was just go inside and probably sink his teeth into a comic book. She repeatedly called his name but he made no effort to turn around, eventually he reached the door and flung it open and then slammed it shut as Phoebe made an attempt to enter the bus. Would she try banging on the windows, like that would get his attention she bitterly thought; and before she knew it, the bus's engine roared and it began making its way out of the arena, setting off in the opposite direction, _finally, I escaped that bitch_, Punk thought.

The bus dropped Punk off by his apartment, thank god they were in Chicago because Punk really needed to see Colt, anyone, Amy preferably but she said she had some business to take care of with her band. He thought that he had proved his point already, he had supposedly "made it to the top" already - yet he knew he had spoke too soon when he left Stephanie's office. It wasn't even her idea, or any of the creative team – Punk betted on his WWE Championship that a certain superstar who just couldn't stand the fact that someone of his class had got the gold, a tattooed dirty kid who came from nothing, now had something that everyone else wanted.  
Punk made his way up the flights of stairs, the block of apartments was simple and not something you'd expect a WWE Superstar slash Champion to live in, except, this is where Phil Brooks lived, where he lived next door to Colt Cabana.  
"Colt, you in bud?" Punk knocked a little harder than usual, he was hoping for some more advice, on generally everything.  
"No I'm not," Colt flung the door open and pulled Punk in for a hug, "How's my favourite tattooed motherfucker, or should I say, W – W – E Champion?"  
"Shut up," Punk walked in, and embraced the familiarity that was Colt's apartment, clothes everywhere, a bra from one of Colt's random hook ups, film posters, podcast equipment, latest merchandise – it was safe to say, Colt was doing well for himself, on his own, _without an assistant and creative team breathing down his neck_.  
"Crabbier than usual, I'll get the Pepsi's," Punk made himself comfortable on Colt's coach, putting his feet up and waited for Colt to return. It was only a couple of weeks ago he was contemplating leaving the WWE for good, spending time with family more and relieving him from all the stress of should I, shouldn't I.  
He returned, a Pepsi in one hand and a Coke in the other, "I don't really know where to start."  
"Then don't, hey by the way did you sort out your assistant problem?"  
"Man, she is like a thorn in my backside, she's the least of my problems to be honest but if she wasn't around it would solve almost all of my problems. I bet she had something to do with the change in storyline." Punk had finished all of his Pepsi, and he was shaking – Colt immediately regretted bringing up the subject. He highly doubted that was the case, but Colt knew himself first-hand how frustrating the company could be, although he needed to change the subject, he couldn't help but feel intrigued.  
"What's happening Phil, tell me?" Punk knew Colt only called him Phil when he was being 100% serious, zero shit type thing.  
"CM Punk vs John Cena at Summerslam, CM Punk wins." Colt sat silently, patiently waiting for the catch, there was always a catch.  
"Del Rio cashes his briefcase. I don't know why it's bothering me so much, I feel like I've just got the championship, and then I got it taken away from me, am I - overreacting."  
"Yes, you are. But, you know, you're right, you only just got the championship and you're right, it's getting taken away from you I mean, after your win at Money In The Bank, like it's not fair and I get it – but you'll get it back. You'll be the WWE Champion for a long time, things will pan out the way you want, you just need to be patient, you know this," Punk's body seemed to settle, and somehow he began cursing himself, why was he worrying over the littlest things, he even botched up his own match for god's sake. Colt was getting ready to respond when his door buzzed, walking over towards the door, he held down his buzzer. "Yeah, who is it?"  
"Is this Colt?"  
"Who wants to know?" Punk knew who's voice that was, and all calmness evaporated and was replaced by frustration and anger.  
"Phoebe, Punk's assistant, there's just something urgent I need to tell him," Colt turned to look at Punk, who thought it would be fun to leave her in the pouring heavy rain, but then again, he'd have much fun screaming at her.  
"Buzz her in," Punk whispered.  
Couple minutes later the two heard a light knocking at the door, Punk heaved a sigh while Colt went to go get it, swinging it open, he was immediately surprised, in his head he was expecting a middle aged,, batty, moth ball smelling biddy – instead he came face to face with a gorgeous brunette, a short, wrinkle free red dress, with a black fitted blazer and 5 inch heels that made it so she was almost 6 foot, her legs just never seemed to end.  
"Phoebe?" Colt spoke, shocked at the surprise in his own voice.  
"You must be Colt Cabana, I loved your last podcast," Colt couldn't wait to let her in, with an amazing front, there had to be an amazing behind, he held the door open a little more and in walked the petite assistant, she had gotten wet from the rain nevertheless, she still looked stunning in Colt's eyes. _You can't think about banging Punk's assistant, that would really piss him off, she doesn't seem like the one night stand type anyway._  
Punk had stood up and was directly staring at Phoebe, he wasn't exploding , he wasn't screaming at her, he was calm. This had only scared Phoebe even more.  
"You just couldn't stay away could you? You couldn't leave me alone for 5 minutes!"  
"It is my job to make sure you're okay, and that I fulfil any needs or wishes you desire!" Phoebe fought back, trying to steady her voice.  
"Well my _desire_ is that you leave me the fuck alone, instead you've turned into some psycho stalker who found my apartment! How did WWE even hire you anyway? You're just a dumb fan, what, are you obsessed with me or something?" Phoebe was shocked, stunned, she had walked over here to tell him what happened in the hotel room, what she saw – yet here he was. Here he stood, _the WWE Champion. _No Phoebe, he's your boss, you have to swallow whatever pride you have and you bend over backwards for him, do whatever he wants you to do.  
"Listen Punk, I - " Instead of listening to her, he strode over towards her, grabbed hold of her wrists and dragged her out of the room, down the flights of stairs and out of the building.  
"My _desire_ is that you leave me alone, my _desire_, is that you fuck off out of my life," he spoke through gritted teeth, pulling harder, tightening his grip. He ignored Phoebe's attempts to escape his grasp and the slight whimpers and squeaks. "I want you to _listen _to me very carefully. You are not my friend, you never will be. You're my assistant, and that is all you'll ever be – if I want something, I'll tell you and when I _tell _you to leave me alone, _you fucking do it_. When I say I don't need you, _I fucking mean it_."  
They reached the end of the stairs and Punk kicked open the building's main entrance door, grabbing hold of Phoebe's waist he flung her outside, he watched as her body hit the concrete and the rain pummelled onto her, soaking every inch of her body.  
"See you Sunday, _cunt_."


	5. Chapter 5

**thanks you guys for the reviews and hey new followers :) heres an update, hope I don't disappoint!**

Phoebe had gotten the message loud and clear, she had decided to keep her mouth shut and not say anything about what she saw in his hotel room – it was all very _yes sir, no sir from _then on. Punk didn't have any ridiculous demands and for once he was being civil, of course he was still his moody, temperamental self however neither of them spoke of what happened outside of Punk's apartment. She thought a lot about telling him what she really saw that day, he obviously didn't deserve it after the way he had thrown her out into the pouring rain, defenceless and vulnerable – it sounded so corny but she couldn't help but feel like she was in a movie, except there was never going to be a happy ending, the awkward loser who nobody liked, a story written by Phoebe Walker. _Let him find out the hard _way. No, that wasn't who she was – she was the _nice_ girl, she cared and loved too much. That night made her want to run away, scream, shout, cry, even vomit, at the time she just wanted to leave the WWE, but then again that would crush her dreams of ever joining the WWE Creative Team and also giving Punk the satisfaction. She couldn't fathom an explanation as to what his problem was, what had she ever done to upset the WWE Superstar? Did he just hate _everyone_? That couldn't have been true, she saw how he was with Kofi, John, Mike and Matt, basically everyone that wasn't her.  
The man she had once admired, a straight edge superstar who was exceptionally witty, hot and attractive on television was in fact the same bitter, hostile, aggressive self that he actually perceived to be on television. He was never satisfied with anything, Phoebe was busting her ass trying to make demands yet it all seemed to have been pointless since no one ever took any notice of her.

Monday Night Raw had arrived, and soon news of the scheduled win for Punk at Summerslam spread like wild fire, as well as the news of Alberto Del Rio cashing in his Money In The Bank briefcase. Phoebe noticed Punk was remarkably crabbier than usual _"Would you fucking hurry up Phoebe?" "Where is my diet Pepsi Phoebe?" "I don't give a shit if I have an appointment with Vince McMahon, Phoebe!" _ – so today was not a great day to tell him about Amy. She was currently waiting backstage in the gorilla area, Punk had a match against Dolph Ziggler and although the crowd were going insane, all Phoebe could hear was Vickie Guerrero's screeching voice. She was a nice lady, and she knew her way around here, she was well respected and Dolph was lucky to have her as a manager, similarly to Punk having Heyman for so many years. They had only met once, but she was loving and caring – unlike most of the people around here. Punk had obviously won the match, she knew this not only because it was scheduled but because she could hear Vickie screaming and practically throwing a tantrum outside of the ring.  
A couple of moments later and she came face to face with the Heel duo, "Phoebe! Hi! You know, you shouldn't be around here right? Only technicians and the production team?" Phoebe was about to answer when she came face to face with the bleached blonde superstar himself, Dolph Ziggler. Her mouth opened slightly, and her eyes trailed from the sweat that leaked from his forehead, the sexy smirk he would occasionally flash her when she passed by, his tanned, toned upper body and the tight trunks that hugged him at his waist; it wasn't until Vickie cleared her voice, she then regained her composure.  
"No I did not know that, thank you for telling me Vickie, it's always a pleasure seeing you," Phoebe nodded in her direction and saw Vickie exit the area, while Dolph decided to stick around for a while longer.  
"So either, you stood me up, you forgot, or just didn't want to see me? I was looking forward to our little dinner date," Dolph pouted, and Phoebe couldn't help but feel extremely guilty. The events of Friday had caused her to have a complete meltdown for the past two days, she had locked herself in her hotel room, closed her laptop, turned off her phone – basically disappearing from the world for 2 days. She had needed time to herself, to realise that working here was going to be hard work, working with Punk was never going to be easy. In the midst of all her revelations and epiphany's she completely forgot about her date with Dolph – something she was actually looking forward to.  
"If you're free after the show, we can grab something to eat and I can tell you then?" Phoebe had no intention of spilling her heart out to Dolph Ziggler, as far as she was concerned he was a friend, a friend that probably didn't like to deal with heartbreaks, feelings and emotions. Yes, he had just suffered through a break up but realistically he seemed to have been taking it rather well.  
"I don't know, maybe I don't want to have dinner with you," Dolph looked away playing the insulted/offended card, Phoebe decided to play along.  
"Well, you don't have to – but I was looking forward to a Ziggler style chapolte," she sighed, turning on her heel until Dolph grabbed her forearm.  
"I won't be able to make you any tonight, but I know a _fantastic_ place!" Phoebe grinned, feeling her heart flutter slightly as she was instantly swooned over by Dolph's million dollar pearl white smile. It was infectious and she always felt slightly overwhelmed from every encounter she had with Dolph.  
"Meet me out back after the show, when I've put some clothes on, or not – whatever you like," Phoebe's face grew red, the idea of going anywhere out in public while Dolph was semi, almost practically naked seemed like a great idea, the idea of him being totally out of her league pricked at the back of her mind but she quickly brushed it off when he gave her a hug goodbye.  
"Don't forget toots!" The moment Dolph exited, Punk came in through the back, she handed him a towel and a clean jacket – it was chilly tonight and he snatched it off of me as he stormed off into his locker room. This was Phoebe's cue that the day had ended and he was no longer in need of her services. _Good night boss. _

She had circled the arena a couple of times, checking out the works backstage, admiring how the show flowed so easily – it was all down to the people that worked backstage and she couldn't have felt more proud about working for this company. Eventually she decided to head back outside, and waited patiently for Dolph. It gave her time to think about what she was getting into, she had hardly any friend backstage, people said hello politely, people also said goodbye as fast as they could – some of the superstars held a conversation with her for a couple of minutes, but just to check in on how she was, John would always see her and briefly have a couple of laughs but Punk was always there, Punk always knew how to kill the mood and atmosphere. Dolph was the only person she found as genuine – who he was in the ring was definitely not what you got in real life, Phoebe would always laugh whenever she thought about her first run in with Dolph – how could she not? He was so cold, so .. _unlike him_. Dolph of course would apologise every time, but bringing it up was never tiring. A lot of acquaintances backstage would usually ask her "_so when are you writing the storylines" "when will we see something fun, something exciting happen" "So when are you going to stop assisting Punk?" _– she would always reply with the same answer, "I don't know." She didn't, and it was so frustrating. Almost everyone saw how unhappy she was assisting Punk, it was completely beneath her and Punk was mocking her. No one defended her, and no one said anything. It wasn't until now she realised how mundane, lonely and upsetting her life had become, the same routine seemed to had been settling in and day in and day out Phoebe would question herself "Is this worth it?"  
"Phoebs? How long have you been out here, you don't even have a coat on, Jesus Christ, come on?" If she wasn't freezing her tits off and throwing herself a pity party, Phoebe's face probably would've lit when she saw Dolph's perfect smile. He had settled for gym clothes, with a cap and sunglasses.  
"I prefer the cold over hot and sunny," Dolph shot her a strange look – of course a man like him loved to catch the sun, or maybe a tanning salon, everyone here was tanned, it was unfashionably fashionable.  
"Of course you do, right let's go eat some chapolte!"

It was a nice place, cosy with an incredible Mexican feel, there was soft instrumental music playing in the background that made Phoebe feel very comfortable - all the staff greeted Dolph like he was a regular customer, including the owner Ryan who didn't even have to ask what he wanted as he brought out the ever so popular chicken chipolte with salad, nachos, chips, guacamole and salsa. She had never even been to Mexico but Ryan and Dolph both guaranteed her that this was the best of a Mexican food experience.  
"It's good, right?" Dolph mumbled through mouthfuls of food, there was salsa all over his face, running down his chin – but she noticed that he seemed to be really into his chipolte wrap as he shovelled salad and cheese into his mouth. Phoebe watched intently with her mouth open as she saw a man who was wrestling only an hour ago, so athletic and agile now stuffing his face with something _she thought_ was completely alien to the WWE Superstars, carbs, carbs and carbs.  
"If you eat too quickly you're going to get indigestion!" Phoebe watched him guzzling everything while she was only halfway through hers, she couldn't stop laughing at him and by the time he had finished he was watching her very closely as she ate, nibbling and gnawing at her salad. "Dolph, I appreciate you buying me a late dinner but can you please stop staring at me while I eat?"  
"Appreciate the food Phoebe!"  
"No thank you, I don't want to choke and die in a Chipolte Mexican Grill restaurant." Dolph smirked and backed away letting her finish her chipolte. "It's so good though, I feel like I want another one after I've finished this one."  
"RYAN!" The owner came bustling out, 2 palates in each hand with burrito bowls – Dolph was really treating her well tonight – Phoebe took in the last bite and swallowed with satisfaction.  
When Ryan put the bowl in front of her, Phoebe's lips curled into a smile, "We need to make Monday, Chipolte Day, we really do." Phoebe didn't expect an answer, instead all she got was a few _mhmhMhmhmHmMh_.  
"So you never did tell me why you couldn't grab dinner with me?"  
"Punk wanted me to do something, and I honestly lost track of time," She lied through her teeth and instead of looking him in the eye she looked down at her bowl and popped a spoonful in her mouth.  
"What did he want? I mean, you don't work Saturdays, he doesn't need you – what could he possibly want on …" Phoebe looked up, she knew she wasn't a very good liar and as she was about to answer his question, god knows what she was going to say, she was immediately distracted when she saw the restaurant door open. A tattooed arm pushing through the door with his other arm snaked around a woman, Punk and Amy walked in leading a group of 5 into the Mexican Grill; Phoebe found herself staring until Dolph realised she wasn't listening to him.  
"Dolph, I'm about to tell you something that's been eating away at me inside – the _real _reason why I forgot about our date. I trust you and quite frankly I need some advice, I need to tell someone Dolph," her voice was quiet and she inched closer towards Dolph. Her attention turned back towards him and Phoebe noticed she was no longer looking into his soft, blue eyes – but down at his lips. Her lips parted slightly signalling that if he wanted to kiss her it was okay. Both there breathing hitched over the salad and burrito bowls – Phoebe Walker was about to kiss Dolph Ziggler – until he turned his head the other way, causing her to topple into his chest, Dolph pushed her gently back as they stewed awkwardly, they looked around quickly scanning to see If anyone saw them.  
"It's not that I don't want to kiss you, it's just that my breath _stinks _of garlic, onion and cheese, you know I don't want to kiss you and the first thing you want to do is run into the bathroom and throw up," Phoebe laughed, he had a point seeing as she realised that she had been eating the same thing as Dolph. She looked up from her table and noticed that Punk and his gang had settled themselves down at a table in a far corner, she wondered if he had seen her, not that it mattered.  
"So you were about to tell me something really important, before things got heated – what was it?" Dolph spoke as someone came over to take their empty plates and bowls.  
"Desert?" Dolph turned to look at her, Phoebe was always a sweet tooth and always needed something sugary to finish off with her meal, he ordered a cheesecake for them and the waiter left the table.  
"I saw someone, cheat on their boyfriend – with another man and I don't know if I should tell that person what I saw." Phoebe's voice was quiet, almost inaudible. Dolph didn't want to make any assumptions but he pretty much gathered who it was by the way she looked at Phil and Amy when the two walked through the door.  
"Phoebe, you need to tell Ph... him."  
"It's not about whether I want or need to tell him – it's a case of whether he'll listen to me." Dolph turned round, following my gaze, Phil was a good guy, in and out of the locker room. Sure he was getting a lot of recognition at the moment but he had single handedly changed the face of the WWE, something no other superstar has ever done in a really long time. He didn't know whether or not to believe Phoebe, he didn't know Amy that well but something inside him told him that Phoebe was telling the truth. Punk saw Ziggler and shot him thumbs up.  
"EY, ZIGGLES, GOOD TO SEE YOU, COME OVER HERE!"  
"Little busy Phillip! I'll come by later." Dolph turned to look at Phoebe, she was chewing her lip aggressively, he could tell this was eating her up inside.  
"You just need to tell him, like ripping a band aid off. You should talk to Amy first though – you might have misunderstood – "  
"She was lying stark naked on a bed with a man's head between her legs – I _don't think I misunderstood anything_," she spoke through gritted teeth but both of them failed to realise that there cheesecake had arrived, the young teenager placed the desert in front of them and walked away slowly, Dolph couldn't hold in his laughter and was the only person who was virtually making any noise.  
"Dolph! Stop, oh Jesus! Oh my god!"  
"What?!" He spoke, still not getting over the fact that waiter was probably traumatized after what she said.  
"Amy is making her way towards the bathroom," Phoebe shoved a couple mouthfuls of cheesecake into her mouth, _damn that was some good cheesecake_, and slipped into the bathroom, waiting to confront what Amy had to say for herself.


	6. Chapter 6

**this chapter's a little weird, don't know if you guys will like it - it's mostly from Amy's point of view of things and there is a kinky sex scene, just filling and you guys are gagging for an update, enjoy beautiful people!**

Phoebe managed to slip into the bathroom without any hassle, Punk had eventually caught her eye and shot her an icy stare however she was fortunate enough to not get any smart ass remark from him. He seemed genuinely happy within his circle of friends Phoebe had no doubt that he was probably talking about her, something about her being incompetent or whatever else she was, regardless of how the night went; people constantly throwing questions at him, Triple H announcing the match for Summerslam live in the ring, Creative being cryptic about any future plans – he seemed pretty content at the minute and she couldn't help but feel like she was about to ruin it with a matter of minutes.

As she stepped into the bathroom she realised that it was just her and Amy – the perks of grabbing Mexican delicacies at midnight. Phoebe waited patiently by the bathroom sinks, checking her appearance and lightly touching up on her make-up, not that she needed to – she just needed something to distract her while she thought about how she was going to go about this.

By the time Phoebe put her away mascara away she saw Amy exit her cubicle, she was startled by the fact that someone else was in the bathroom but a smile appeared on her face as she realised it was someone familiar.  
"Hello, stranger – you know we saw you when we came in but it looked like you and Nick were getting pretty close," Amy must've witnessed the lip lock that her and Dolph were about to share, but Phoebe knew she couldn't talk about that right now.  
"Yeah," a nervous laugh echoed within the 4 tiled walls, how was one supposed to bring up the fact that she saw her sleeping with someone else, _cheating and lying to someone's face_. "Listen, Amy – on Friday when we first met .. I saw … "  
"Spit it out Phoebe, what is it?" Amy wasn't paying any attention to Phoebe as she hastily plastered on her lip gloss, Dolph's words echoed in her head, _like ripping off a band aid. _  
"I-didn't-mean-to-but-I-came-into-your-hotel-room- and-saw-you-in-bed-with-another-guy!" that certainly grabbed Amy's attention, Phoebe spoke incredibly fast without taking in a single breathe but Amy heard her crystal clear. She didn't answer right away, instead thought about how she was going to go about this.  
_  
So, some little girl who works as my boyfriend's assistant has found out that I have been sleeping with another guy. Someone who gives me the love and attention that I need and deserve because my boyfriend can't do any of those things, constant mood swings and the relentless need to discuss work whenever we skyped or rang each other.  
I felt guilty at first, but then again, it's true what people say, "what they don't know won't hurt them." I had met a guy named Matt a couple of months back at a gig, he was a genuinely nice person and appreciated new, unsigned bands and understood how hard it was when starting from the bottom. Sure Phil was supportive, but he was never 100% there – she never planned hooking up with him, but it happened, it was just sex at first, sex with no strings attached –but that never ends up well and I eventually realised that Matt was a special guy. Phil was a special guy too, why couldn't I have both? I thought Matt and I were the only people that knew of my relationship with him and Phil, but I guess the stubby little troll got in the way of things and stuck her stuck up nose in our business. I felt sorry for her, I knew how hard it was to even have a conversation with Phil, let alone work for him, I gave her the bebefit of the doubt but I soon saw what Phil meant by "infuriating, desperate bitch." I turned to look at the girl, she couldn't stand up to anyone if her life depended on it. I soon came to a sudden realisation that I had nothing to worry about, she didn't have shit on me – like she was ever going to tell Phil what she saw, and even If she did, who was he going to believe? I just had to play it cool because I had nothing to worry about. _

"What do you want me to do?" Amy said nonchalantly, Phoebe's blood started to boil and had the sudden urge to smack the lipgloss out of her hand.  
"Don't you have any shame? You're cheating on a guy you've been in a relationship for almost 3 years!" So she did her research on CM Punk and "Lita's" name seemed to pop up quite frequently.  
"You have no absolutely no right sticking your nose into my business, what I do is no concern of yours. So just do everyone a favour and fuck off!" Phoebe was only inches away from Amy and had the sudden fear that she was about to beat her into a pulp – she had to remember that she was in fact face to face confronting a former wrestler, not _diva_, wrestler.  
"Look Amy, I'm not the biggest fan of your boyfriend, he's an ass – "  
"What did you say?"  
"He's an _ass_. I shouldn't be defending him…"  
"No you're right, you shouldn't so why are you ?"  
"Because what you're doing is _wrong_, it's actually _disgusting, _and that fact that you're not even bothered, is actually pretty worrying."  
"He – doesn't – even – like – you. I don't give a fuck what you think of me you stupid, judgemental bitch because I don't care. I do what I want and if you want to go tell Phil what you saw, that's fine, but you know deep down inside in that ugly little heart of yours that he's never going to believe you."  
Phoebe only stared in disbelief, she was completely and utterly stunned, she knew that there was no way in hell she could get through to this woman, she was clearly deluded. She had nothing more left to say to Amy and decided that it was absolutely necessary to tell Punk what she saw, she had never felt so right about anything in her life. The only question was _how?_

She hurried back into the restaurant, nothing had changed except Phoebe felt flustered and in all honesty, aggravated and repulsed. She glanced over at Punk's table, he had a taco in his mouth but nevertheless he was happy. Phoebe also noticed that Colt was there and he was looking at her, sympathy, pity – was that a _smile_? Behind her, Phoebe heard the bathroom door open, pushing all thoughts aside she hurried to where Dolph was and saw 3 empty plates. She wasn't gone that long, _was she?_  
"Sorry, hey, hey, what's the matter?"  
Phoebe's voice broke, "Can we just go please?"

After Amy came out of the bathroom she had instantly lost her appetite, not that she had anything to worry about but she began to doubt her relationship with Matt. Should she tell Punk, was that the right thing to do? Apparently so. Settling on one taco she had asked Phil to take her back to the hotel. The only thing that seemed to settle well in her stomach was the fact that she saw how upset Phoebe had become, now she saw the satisfaction Phil got at work almost every day. _Lucky guy. _Phoebe's words haunted her throughout the ride there and Phil kept nagging her with questions. She hated to admit it, but every word that little troll said was true. She hated feeling guilty she really did, every time she rang, texted, _fucked_ Matt she would be thinking about Phil the whole time. _What had she become_? Amy would ask, every single time. _  
_The two had reached the hotel and the decided to end the night like they always did – with sex.

Phil had excused himself and stepped inside of the bathroom to have a shower, meanwhile Amy lit some candles on either side of the bed and smiled to herself. Handcuffs were attached to the headboard and hidden by a pillow. He would never see it coming, she though – this is what she needed right now and all she had to do was wait. Amy knew exactly how to get Phil's attention – and that was what she got when he stepped out with only a towel around his waist, water droplets still clinging to his chest.

Punk ran his hand down his girlfriend's stomach and over her panties, his fingers playing lightly with the small nub he could feel through the fabric. Amy moaned and her hips bucked slightly. Punk couldn't help the smile that curled his lips. His eyes roamed over her nearly naked body and met her green eyes, dark with lust. He loved the way even his lightest touches made her come undone. He couldn't get enough of the brunette beauty that was laid out on the bed before him.

His fingers slid lower down; the fabric was moist to the touch. He pushed the fabric to the side and slid a finger inside her.

Amy arched off the bed, "Oh God, Phil, don't stop."

Punk smirked and pulled his finger out which made Amy whimper. He hooked his forefingers into the sides of the pale pink panties and pulled them down supple thighs. She kicked the panties to the floor as Punk stood up from the bed. He had just finished his shower after a long, stressful night and when he entered the room, he found his girlfriend laid out on the hotel bed nearly naked and waiting. He threw his towel off, he had just been so eager to feel her and was so glad he didn't have any clothes to discard, or else he would've came there and then.

Amy sat up, her long brunette hair cascading over her shoulders, and crawled forward. Punk watched as she moved, a look so predatory in her dark green eyes that it sent a chill of desire down his spine.

"Looks like you could use a little help," Amy said. Her finger skimmed over Phil's hip bones, she would pay for this later but she loved to tease. She pulled his body forward slightly, his bare feet gave in and he took the small step toward the woman on the bed.

A mischievous smirk on her plump red lips. "No touching," she said, wrapping his belt around his wrists and cinching it as tight as she could.

Punk grunted in an effort to break the binding on his wrists and looked up. Amy always loved taking control like that. He liked it. A lot.

Amy got off the bed and turned him around. A gentle push had him falling backward, landing softly on their bed. "We're going to try something new. Hands over your head," she commanded, her voice firm.

Punk did as he was told. Amy crawled up his body, a hand skimming over his erection. Her breasts brushed his skin as she moved up to sit just below his armpits. His fingers flexed, itching to touch his girlfriend. She leaned down, her hands placed just above his head, tucked into the pillows on either side of him. Her lips softly brushed his. He moved his hand to bring them around her neck, a desire to pull her close, needing to deepen the kiss, but his hands jerked back and Amy broke the kiss.

"So predictable." She her voice was sweet and held a bit of a laugh.

Punk looked up, his hands were fastened to the headboard. He was shocked to see the cuffs. "You should be a magician, with that sleight of hand."

She rolled her eyes but the smile on her face was genuine. "You are so cheesy sometimes." Her lips pressed against his, her hair caging his head and blotting out the flickering light of the candles.

He let his eyes close, the feeling of her naked body on his chest, her smooth lips pressed against his. She pulled back, licking his bottom lip before pushing her hair out of her face. His eyes opened when her weight lifted from his chest.

She pressed her hand over the bulge and Punk moaned, unable to stop the slight buck of his hips. He wanted more. She ran a finger along the inside of his thigh, making sure to keep her touches brief. Punk liked to torture her, it was her turn to turn the table. Punk whimpered as her finger ghosted over his weeping cock.

Amy bit her lip, she loved the sounds he made. With some reluctance she removed her hand.

"You are truly evil," Punk panted, his neck extended, trying to view her at the foot of their bed.

Amy smiled and quirked an eyebrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about, my love." She would never get used to the idea that he was hers, to do with as she pleased.

"Release my hands, and I'll show you exactly what I'm talking about." Punk's voice was deep and husky, just the way she loved it. It was firm and commanding. Normally it would be her undoing, but she was on a mission.

Amy grinned and moved closer to Punk, his body on display for her, an offering for the goddess he always treated her like. She dipped her head and ran her nose along the vein on the underside of his dick. Her eyes locked on to his as she took him in her mouth. Punk's hips bucked up, pushing him deeper, Amy placed a hand on his hip and pinched the tender flesh.

Amy released him with a pop, and he groaned.

"Choke me, and I'll leave you handcuffed to the bed."

She didn't need to tell him what the pinch was for, he received one almost every time she went down on him, but this time, she was in a unique position to leave him hard, weeping, and unable to do anything about it. She rather liked the cuffs.

"Amy," Punk growled when she ran her tongue around the head of this cock.

"What is it, my love?" she asked, her voice sweet and innocent

"I need to be inside you, come on, baby, release my hands." Punk's voice was desperate. Amy wrapped her hand around his cock and her thumb dipping slightly into the slit, pushing precum out.

"Say it." Her hand slid down the shaft, spreading the glistening liquid.

"Say what?"

"Don't play dumb Phillip, say it, or…" She let go of his dick and stood up from the end of the bed. "You'll just have to watch as I get off, knowing that you didn't cause it. And don't even think about coming, you won't get permission." She crawled across the bed and opened the bedside table.

"Oh fuck," Punk swore. "Fine, I'll say it."

Punk moaned and swallowed thickly, his eyes roaming over her body, pausing at her open legs.

"Say it."

"Chicago Blackhawks suck, the Florida Panthers are the true champions of ice hockey."

Amy raised her arms in triumph and laughed. "If it was going to be that easy, I would have tied you to the bed years ago." She kissed him on the lips and released the belt around his hands.

Phil sat up and tucked his legs under him, a smile of pure danger on his face. Amy's eyes went wide as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, her legs placed on either side of his, straddling him. Amy let out a small squeak of shock. She should have known it was coming, but the strength that he was able to use to pull her to him still took her by surprise.

"I like it when you play dirty." Punk pushed inside her and she gasped.

A spark of pleasure shot through her body, building with each small thrust. It was slow but not gentle. Each forced thrust brought her a step closer to falling over the edge.

Punk's groans and grunts filled her ears. Her arms were wrapped around his neck to keep her steady, her green eyes locked onto his. She matched his thrusts. With the raise of her body, they moved together. Amy's emotions got the better of her as she felt her body shudder and shake.

The coil snapped and she closed her eyes. Stars burst behind her closed lids, she felt like she was on fire. Her body felt raw, like a nerve exposed: every touch, every movement, she felt it all.

Punk thrust a few more times before his body went rigid and still. "Holy fuck," he breathed, his head falling to the crook of Amy's neck. "You need to tease me like that more. God that was hot."

Amy laughed, "I'll remember that for next time."

Punk leaned back against the pillows and pulled Amy with him. "Where did you get these?" He pulled gently on the handcuffs above his head, they jingled against the metal frame.

"Amazon, duh. Did you actually think I walked into a sex shop and bought handcuffs and sex toys? Can you image the headline The Star would use if they saw me go into a store like that?"

"Oh yes, I can see those headlines. Speculation about a dead sex life and other things, I'm sure." Punk pulled the covers out from under him.

"I'm going to go clean up." Amy slid off the bed and walked into the bathroom.

"You know I'm going to get you back for making me say that, right?"

Amy laughed as she pulled her hair into a ponytail and grabbed her pajamas from the sink.

"I'm pretty sure I'm going to hell for saying that about the Chicago Blackhawks."

"You don't believe in hell." She said getting dressed. "In any case, if you do end up in hell, at least you'll have company." She walked out of the bathroom and smiled when he huffed.

"Why did you have to get dressed? I like you naked."

"Yes, I know you do. If you had your way, I'd own no clothing at all." Amy crawled into bed and blew out the candle on her bedside table.

Punk thought for a second before nodding, "Accurate. Tell me again why you need clothing?"

She smacked his chest. Punk pulled her close, and she kissed the small hand print she left before resting her head over his heart.

"I'm pretty sure the band wouldn't like it."

"I beg to differ. Your gigs sales would probably go through the roof."

"Phillip Jack Brooks!"

Punk laughed again, making Amy's head shake. "I see your point. I don't want everyone to see you naked. You're mine, all mine. No one else's."

Amy's body stiffened and she hoped to God that Punk didn't notice, Phoebe's voice had come back to haunt her and yet she just had the most mind-blowing sex with her boyfriend, she was still not satisfied. Her skin was crawling and she was cringing – Punk's tattooed arms wrapped around her body and squeezed tightly against hers.

Amy swallowed, her voice on the brink of breaking, "I love you too. Blow out that candle, I'm tired."

Punk shifted slightly under Amy and blew out the candle. The room went dark and Amy closed her eyes, feeling disgusted and humiliated.


	7. Chapter 7

**not really read it through so if it's got mistakes dont kill me :( and yeah i feel like its really badly written, but it's more of a filler chapter again, regardless i hope you enjoy the tension :3 fav/share/review/follow**

Summerslam had officially arrived, and Phoebe was stalling. The run in with Amy had frightened her, she was truly terrifying however she now knew that it was absolutely vital that she told Punk what she saw. Telling him today sooned turned into telling him the next day, then turned into this week that then soon turned into telling him after Summerslam; where he would be free of stress. The pay-per-view had gotten under his skin and Phoebe could see it on his face, in his eyes and in his moods. She would get constant remarks on whatever was going on with her and Dolph. "_You don't think he actually likes you right? He's slept with half the locker room and he's just bored." _The words stung but the thought of what she was going to tell him about Amy, she knew for sure would sting even more.

The entireSummerslam week had consisted on hectic car journey's from place to place, Punk's constant need to bicker with her, excessive training, and the endless amount of meetings covered by wither John Laurintis or Vince McMahon himself. Phoebe would always have her notebook at the ready and wrote every single important detail, Punk was reluctant to ever pay attention during the meetings and spent the entire thing staring through the window.

But now Summerslam was finally here, it was Sunday and it was by far the busiest day she had ever worked on. Phoebe scuttled behind Punk while he circled around the arena in sheer confidence, headphones in, blocking the world around him. Phoebe watched as various people tried to get his attention but Phoebe knew all to well that this was when Punk was trying to get into the zone. Both of them reached the gorilla area and Randy's match was still on as the two of them saw on the monitor – Punk sighed, however she noticed he was not shaken. He ran his tattooed hand through his hair and turned towards his assistant.

"Water."

She hastily handed him the bottle, as he took a long gulp from it, he threw the empty bottle at her which she then disposed. The entire day had been so eventful and tiring that she completely forgot about the Amy situation, that was until she saw the familiar brunette wrap her arms around him. Phoebe decided it was best to stay out of ears reach but still got a faint idea about what they were talking about.

"You know you're not supposed to be around here, _and_ you know not to come here while I'm waiting for a match." Punk's tone was serious but he couldn't hide the signature smirk that plucked at his lips.

"I know but I know how certain _company _can be really off putting before a match, and I thought I'd be able to soothe any pre match nerves," Phoebe felt a pair of eyes on her and knew that they were laughing at her. Rewind a couple of years back she would've felt like crying in front of him, how she could only succumb to an eye roll. _If only you knew Punk, you selfish bastard_. Phoebe heard the two kissed and then footsteps heading towards her, shoving Phoebe aggressively into a nearby camera.

"Phoebe stop fucking around my match is … goddamn it! It's starting now!" Punk hurled the his headphones and IPhone at her while she tried to gain her poise. He began jumping down on the stop and waited for the static guitar riff. In a couple of seconds, the arena would explode, there true champion would walk out there and do the fans proud, do them justice like every other night.

**_Look in my eyes, what do you see? The cult of personality._**

Punk was out of the arena, and Phoebe's eyes were glued to the monitor screen, nearby she heard directors, various PA's and creative writers talking amonst themselves.

"Long time no speak!" John Cena, Mr Hustle Loyalty and Respect was bouncing on the balls of his feet as Phoebe watched Punk look down at the ring with a smirk; the entire arena were on there feet chanting his name, over and over again. Nobody knew what was really going to happen, he though as he shook his hands, he didn't even tell Amy or Colt – they'd know just like the rest of these fans in the arena. Punk's style in the ring was unique, extreme, crazy and creative among other things, but never in a million years would he suggest that Del Rio would come at the end of the match and cash in his briefcase.

"Wish me luck Phoebe!" John grinned, as he also waited for his entrance music to start playing.

"Does being Punk's assistant give me the right to say 'Luck is for losers?"

"Absolutley."

**_Your time is up, my time is now. You can't see me my time is now!_**

Punk was ready, John was ready. The Championship was at stake and it was time for the game face, Phoebe knew, hell everyone knew how hard it was for Punk to get to grips with the predictable storyline. Sure Punk stood in the ring, grinning at how _this wasn't going to take long_ and _in no time Punk was going to be champion_ but he knew as soon as Del Rio came runnding down that ramp, everything was soon going to be a waste. He had akready handed his Championship belt over and when John ran from one side of the ring to the other he reciprocated. Justin Roberts spoke, clear with immediate passion in his voice – announcing this incredible match. Somwhow, everything had become silent, everyone was on the edge of there seat, anticipating the match of a lifetime.

Punk loved the thrill, and what he said back in June when he pipe bombed, fame rose for him but he was still the same guy, the same person who loved jumping from top rope and causing pain, he was a sadistic motherfucker and he thrived off pain, but now he was older, and knew better, this match wasn't just about causing pain, it was the danger and the excitement. He got off on it, he thrived on it, it kept him going. He had gotten over career threatening injuries that caused him months of rehabilitation, wrestling was his addiction, and pain was what he needed, possibly deadlier than some drugs.

Blow after blow and kick after kick, Triple H was the official of the match, he raced around the ring noticing if anything odd was occurring, if he needed to check if the two were okay. The entire crowd were immersed in the match as well was the people backstage. Phoebe or any of the PA's weren't aloud to watch the m practice or see it play through therefore watching it on the monitor was just like watching it back home. The pace of the match was fantastic and it was quickening from after every closeline and drop kick. John gave Punk an Attitude Ajdusment, everyone groaned but Punk kicked out. John was getting restless. He even asked Triple H if he was sure that it was a two count. Moments later, Punk gave Cena a GTS – and yet again, Cena kicked out. Just a two count. Punk's knee began playing up and Phoebe felt her heart pace quicken. _He's seriously hurt, and he's climbing the top rope now!?_ Yet again, a kick out after a two count. The two began punching each other in the face, scratching like an all out bar fight brawl. A kick to the rib cage, a kick to the mid section, kick to the head. An eventually – a second GTS.

"His foot was on the rope! What is Triple H playing at?! How could he not have seen that! That wasn't supposed to happen!" the production team were screaming, yelling through there ear pieces, John was just as confused, he was hurt and confused. Punk himself was conflicted. _Had they changed the rules __**again**__?_ John still had fight left in him, but left with his faux pas belt – it meant nothing now and all he could do was admire Punk's stroll around the ring. They had to let him have his fun, let him have his moment of fun for the time being. Any minute now Del Rio would stroll out.  
Punk was hurting, _and he won_. _He beat the babyface of the company_, the one everyone loved. He circled the ring holding the title with pride and he ever entered back into the ring. Phoebe knew the real drama was still to come, even when Punk entered the ring, Triple H started talking, offered him a handshake in which Punk seriously didin't want to touch. He refused his hand and instead Triple H raised his arm in triumph. He then left the ring and decided to leave Punk in peace. What no one was expecting was, Kevin Nash eagerly waiting, hungrily ready to strike at Punk. The man was ready and waiting, standing tall in the middle of the ring – this was a major shocker for Phoebe as both hands flung to her mouth. Punk lay withering on the floor, and Kevin had a look of pride sketched all over his face. There was a look of danger in his eyes and before Punk had gained any consciousness, Nash powerbombed him into the mat. The camera flashed back to to Triple H – who gazed confused at the scene that displayed before him. He paced over to Punk's aid however before he reached the ring, Kevin had disappeared.

Del Rio came running out, briefcase in one hand and referee on the other side, they were running. It was the perfect moment the crowd, the fans never would've suspected it but Phoebe wasn't in the mood to watch it anymore. She knew the result. She saw how hurt Punk was, how vulnerable he looked, _this is all scheduled you dummy, he's supposed to look like that, it's __**entertainment**_. She turned away from the monitor and decided to wait outside. Even outside you could hear the crowd. Screaming, booing – so Alberto was champion. The air was breezy, the feeling of excitement had washed over her, it was overwhelming and could not wait for the next PPV event. She just hoped at the next event, she wouldn't have the feeling of anxiousness pumping through her, Summerslam had ended, the main event was finished – _you owe Punk the truth. _

Punk wasn't feeing the pain, rather excitement, he should be knocked out, he should be upset but his body was resistant, his numb body couldn't hold on much longer, and it all went black. The crowd was in shock over the cashin in from Alberto Del Rio, the booing and the howling caused Punk to smile. Soon he'll be champion again, soon the fans will be cheering for him, wanting to see the gold around his torse. After Del Rio paraded around the ring with the championship belt, the referee's frantically signalled for EMT's, who came rushing out. This match hadn't completely ruined Punk's body, it would recover, but now it was time for him to plan his next move, his next creative notion, he would need to recover emotionally after this hideous outcome from the PPV.

Eventually Punk was backstage, and he noticed how incredibly hot he was feeling, almost as if he was getting a fever, or the flu, he was rushed into a medical room, checking for any signs of torn tissue, legiments – anything that needed checking up on. He told them to check out his knee since it was playing up a lot during the match, the soothing quiet seemed to do some good. There was no ridiculous clacking noise of high heels against the floor, no annoying heaby breathing as Phoebe tried to catch up with Punk. _Thank fuckig God, Phoebe was Del Rio's problem now. _That girl was the most overbearing, irritating woman he had ever met in his life, were all assistants like that? It didn't matter. He had just finished a good match, an excellent match with John. He knew the Money In The Bank was a match that they'd be talking about forever but this definitely lived up to the standards. He noticed that the room was deserted, no one was around except the medicial proffesionals, thus giving him a chance to think things over.

He honestly thought the Money In The Bank match was everything for him, he thought he would return, everyone would appreciate the changes he had made. He had waited for a year, hell, he had waited 3 years, trained for a decade, showed up to every event on the independent scene, on OVW, on Raw, on Smackdown for months without stop and without any days off to show to the world that he was the real deal. The tattoos shouldn't fool annoying because he was hear to wrestle. He had absorbed every shot at him, comments, critiques, negative feedbacks and still, he kept on trying to stand on his own two feet, convincing himself that even if the people had turned their backs on him, he could still go on; he could still move on and the only way to prove himself was to just do what he was doing right now. Although in his heart, he was convinced that what he was doing now was the right thing to do, to let creative do whatever they wanted but there was a little part of him that said it was all for the win, the change, to have his own control. The company was corrupted. They could not face someone like Punk being champion and it hurt him deeply. He wanted to change the company for the better but the company were trying to change him, he was not _John Cena, _or _Rnady Orton_, the goddamn assistant was just the icing on the cake. He didn't need her, the company would soon need to face the fact that a wannabee amateur writer was not going to suck him into the corporate worm hole. It was all to the company, Vince McMahon, _him_. He had ruined many lives, many of his friends lives, Punk wanted retribution.

"Punk."

Lowering his head down, Punk closed his eyes. Damn, he had never felt so much anger before until now. Phoebe had stepped into the room, the corporate bitch hired from the Vinnie faggot McMahon.

"You're not my problem now. Go fuck off to Del Rio."

"I just wanted to see how you were Punk."

"Do I look fucking alright? I'm in pain you dumb bitch." Phoebe bit back a retort, she knew he was hurting but anything she said back would damage her chance of becoming a creative writer.

"Just thought you'd want some water, you mmust be thirsty." Phoebe handed him a cool bottle of Evian, she handed it to him her hand outstretched, instead Punk smacked the water out of her hand, she watched it shock as it rolled on the tiled floor.

"You thought wrong. Just leave me alone, I'm not in the fucking mood for your shit. The sooner you're out of this company the better."

"Punk –"

"You just don't get it do you?" Phoebe whipped round to see Amy stood behind her, feeling a harsh grip around her blazer she pulled her out of the room and flung her against the wall. Phoebe felt the impact of her slam shake throughout her body and groaned in agony. "You stalk me in bathrooms and now you're stalking my _boyfriend_."

"She stalked you into a bathroom?! You fucking creep, get out before I get your ass fired. Go on! Fuck off!"

"Leave us alone, _Phoebe_. No one wants you around." Amy grinned wickedly at Phoebe, she was strong and none of the words would usually hve mattered, but the words had come out of Punk's mouth, and they really stuck with her. Echoed in the walls of her mind. She was just a simple girl, in a foreign place looking for work and her companionship, as corny as it sounded, she couldn't handle the constant hassle from Punk. Hassle was being nice, grief, torture, verbal extreme abuse. Phoebe left without another word, not only was she emotionally hurt, she fucking hated herself. She had let her guard down and she had thrown everything away to join a company in which she was hated. She was a fucking assistant, her job was to take orders, people that told her to never take the job, she had proved them all right. She let silent tears fall down her face, she felt wounded. _Maybe this gig just wasn't for her_.

No matter how much she tried, she suppressing a sigh, Pjoebe finally let out a shuddering sob one after the other, her stomach did another somersault as she felt a arbitrary hole imerging inside of her. Along with the whistle of the wind breezing through her, her ears echoing the harsh words from Punk and Amy, the constant discouragement that sometimes – well, most of the time, lately – pissed her off. She might not show it to the universe, denying the fact that she really just took the shit because she wanted to move further up, she hated him, and she goddamn admired him at the same time. She just wanted to help, be a good person, she just wanted to show case her talents and relieve Punk from the cheating whore, but god help her, she _really wanted to_. She thought she could let everything in from what he said, in ear and out to the other, but she was human, too, and she could still _feel_. She may act numb but she still felt like crap. What did the Punk want her to do, anyway? She worked her fucking ass off every week, doing shit that no one should ever have to do ever, did WWE just hire her to laugh at her? She gave this a chance to see Punk's classic gimmick, wit, charm, personality and caring nature from what she heared after so many years, and still, the disrespect she received every time she appeared in his presence was overwhelming that he couldn't stop asking_. What the fuck do you want from me Punk?_


	8. Chapter 8

**kept you waiting long enough, hope this doesn't disappoint, enjoy XO**

Alberto Del Rio was strangely not what she imagined him to be. The night Phoebe left the hospital she knew her next stop would be the locker room to find the Mexican Aristocrat – she expected _snobby, self-centred arrogant and obnoxious _from what she heard from Punk. The man was friendly and professional, and occasionally he didn't require much of any assistance, which led to Phoebe roaming around the arena for a while checking out the Creative base or check out whatever town they were in. Alberto had even let her travel with him and Ricardo, the man was incredibly rich and whenever they travelled from city to city, country to country, they travelled in style, the cars that appeared on the live shows were certainly not a gimmick.

It had been 2 months since she had last seen Punk, she had no run ins or verbal attacks from the straight edge superstar – however what Phoebe did know was that Punk was still with Amy. The thought made her feel guilty, the secret was devouring her, it wasn't often that she thought about it but every once in a while she would hear or see something that reminded her of him. Alberto had once asked her of Punk was a good boss, but not wanting to bad mouth anyone she reassured him he was excellent company and it was a pivellage to have worked for him.  
_Looks like Punk has set the bar pretty high, he's really talented you know – I was surprised when Creative wanted me to cash in my briefcase, that man has worked very hard. _  
Alberto wasn't wrong, he just didn't know what an asshole CM Punk was, she got on the wondering how long Amy was going to keep up this whole charade, was she really going to go about sleeping behind Punk's back? What is he was thinking of settling down, getting serious? _It's not your fucking problem? _So what, if it wasn't her problem, bizarrely Phoebe found that she somewhat cared for Punk, however much she tried rejecting the feeling she still felt somewhat responsible. She was the only one who knew. The only one that can prevent Punk from making the worst decision of his life – Phoebe had to stop Punk and Amy's relationship.

Dolph had given up convincing Phoebe that it was wrong to interfere with somebody else's relationship, at first he was happy to see Phoebe so caring and so passionate about somebody else, she didn't want to see anyone heartbroken which was extremely rare to find in this company, most people kept themselves to themselves in their own private bubble. But now he noticed the erratic behaviour, her lack of fatigue and also her tendency to check up on what Punk was doing. Dolph knew that Phoebe only had his best interest at heart but he couldn't help but feel that whatever "moment" they had back at the Chipolte Mexican Grill restaurant was now gone – they had gotten closer, incredibly close as friends but Dolph never made a move – and Phoebe wasn't expecting one. She enjoyed the company of Dolph and Jack "Jake" Swagger however most of her time was taken up by her busy schedule, adding new and new ideas to her portfolio, perfecting any creative idea she had, making sure to ring her mother every day, the emotional stress and guilt harassing her the moment she woke up. Phoebe knew she wasn't going to feel better until she had spoken to Punk, she knew it, Dolph knew it. Jake was oblivious to the entire situation, as were most of Phoebe's acquaintances in the WWE.

Dolph took a moment to look at her. Hair cascading over her shoulders, he had eyes. He could see how pretty she was, she was honestly - beautiful. If he had any courage, he'd have asked her out a long time ago. The bleached blonde saw how engrossed she was with Punk, she would never admit it, but she had a soft spot for him, it was undeniable and if Punk took a moment just to look at her, talk to her, it angered Dolph to his core. _Was this envy_I? Phoebe was wasting a great deal of love onto one guy that didn't give a shit about her. It bothered him, but _he was her friend._

Phoebe was currently seated at the small kitchen table aboard Dolph's and Jack's tour bus. They were making their way through the night, racing towards the next location. Seated before her was her laptop, a new file brought up. Alberto had given Phoebe the wonderful delight of creating a new, fully filled schedule for him, since becoming the new WWE Champion, he had twice as many promotions and signing, that neither her nor Alberto could keep up. Sadly, she had two documents opened up, the one she was supposed to be working on, instead she had her plot twists and storylines with various Superstars she thought would help boost their career, the words were just staring her in face and all should could think about was how she wanted Stephanie to just take two minutes out of her day, so she could show her plans for the future of WWE.

Dolph emerged from the back of the bus, where his and Jake's bunks was located. He stepped into the kitchen area and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of Gatorade. He popped the cap and took a sip before turning to her.

"Still working on your portfolio?" he suddenly asked, studying her.

"You already asked me that." she told him with a gentle smile, "I'll put it away now I promise. I just, I can't stop thinking about -."

"Punk. Do you remember the way he treated you?" he knew fully aware that she did, and didn't expect her to give him the right answer.

Phoebe shrugged, "I can't deal with the past, all I know is that image, back at the hotel is driving me insane, the moment this bus stops I'm going to go find him and tell him everything. I don't even care anymore, I don't care he gets me fired, because it looks like Stephanie's just stringing me along."

Dolph began to frown, "That's not true and you know it, as for Punk well, you've been scared shitless for months, I don't know what exactly happened, but you need to _end it_, and you need to keep going with this, promise me you will because you're so talented and I can see you going places. "

"I promise, I'm just - you were right." Phoebe waved off, slamming her laptop shut.

"Right about what?"

"When we first met, you said I was weak, and I was never going to survive, you were right just like Punk and well whoever else said it behind my back."

"You know damn well I didn't mean that, I was just trying to scare you off. You have guts, I've seen your passion when you're there, with your little ideas and attention to detail about every story line you have in mind. You're passionate about this country, and I know you're not loving working here right now, but you need to work hard, and you are right now. Just because Stephanie can't see it right now doesn't mean you're not getting noticed.

Phoebe felt her lips turn into a toothy grin. Dolph was the greatest, funniest, probably most caring person she had met while working on the WWE, and she couldn't help but feel like he only loved her like a sister. Phoebe couldn't help how private and closed she was – she could never let her guard down around people, she didn't trust anyone, she was an insecure human being and Dolph had no idea how to break that exterior. He had a fun run in with Nikki, she was fun and flirtatious, but too wild and self-centred, especially when it came to herself. Maybe She thought Dolph had a thing for her and maybe there was some sort of a spark – but like she assumed always, no one was ever interested and it looked like Dolph had forgotten the moment they shared in the restaurant, Phoebe was hoping that Dolph was just what she needed right now. Her guess was as good as anyone's. He figured he was trying to get to her to open up, because he was.

"Hmm?" Phoebe looked up from the screen and shook her head, "Um, no. I want to stay up and see if I can finish this." She glared at her laptop. It used to be her dearest friend, after Dolph. Now it was her most hated enemy.

"Well good luck," the champion grinned and nodded, "Don't stay up too late and I'll see you in the morning."

"Night." Phoebe once again turned her attention to her laptop.

Dolph peeked his head back in, a mischievous look on his handsome face, "You are just going to write, right? This isn't about you not being able to sleep because you're thinking about Punk"

"It is about writing, I've got work to do" she hedged, eyes falling to her keyboard, "And, yeah maybe I am thinking about ways I can tell Punk about Amy, but I'm not going to worry." she assured him. Dolph didn't say anything, and decided to leave her to stew.

Punk paced the length of his hotel room – it was Amy's birthday. He had just spent a couple of hours in the hotel gym, trying to burn off his anxiety for tonight. He had been planning the perfect evening. 4 years he had been with Amy, and they had known each other for 10 amazing years. Despite his belief that marriage was a complete waste of money, time and energy – he knew that him and Amy weren't getting any younger, and that Amy's views of getting married where the complete opposite to his. She loved the white dress, the rings, the cake, the flowers. Just seeing her face light up got Punk thinking – _why not make it official_. The box in his jeans pocket rested against his thigh, it was something he had picked out with Colt month's ago. It looked beautiful in the box, magical – but Punk knew it would look even better, _on Amy's finger._

He wandered over to the window and braced his hands against the pane, after tonight this was it. He would be engaged, and soon married to most stunning woman he had ever laid eyes on. Punk prided himself on being a romantic, the "romance" tattoo said it all – he had booked a table for them so they could eat dinner in the moonlight, ice cream and stroll on the Californian beach, and the last stop would be the tattoo parlour. He had it all planned out perfectly, until there was a knock at the door, confused Punk decided to answer it anyway, he did tell Amy that he was picking her up right?

Punk flung the door open, and regretted it the moment he saw her, "What are you doing here?"

"You clean up well," Phoebe let her eyes trail down Punk's jacket, shirt and fitting jeans, he looked exceptionally good looking and that was with clothes on.

Punk cursed Phoebe. He just wanted her to disappear, why was she hear? What did she want with him, goddamn it this was supposed to be a special night. He _hated_ how she was always there to ruin something for him, anything – she was lurking like a stalker. Punk had the urge to push her out of the door but _fortunately_ for him she had let herself in. His teeth began to clench, his rage threatening to boil over as he watched her eyes trail all over him.

"What are you doing here? What the _fuck_ do you want?"

"Punk, there's something I want to tell you and I think you should sit down for this – "

"Don't tell me what to fucking do! _Why are you here?"_

"I, I have something to tell you… There's no easy way to say this – "

"Just spit it out Phoebe, for fucks sake!" The words seemed to choke in her throat, whether it was Punk's aggression or what the aftermath would be Phoebe was petrified and she had no idea how to handle an angry Punk, let alone what she was previously used to.

Punk shoved his hands in his pockets, letting out an irritated sigh.

"Amy's cheating on you."

There was silence for a couple of minutes, Phoebe averted Punk's gaze, not wanting to see his reaction to what she had to say, a couple of seconds passed and she could her manic laughter echo throughout the hotel room.

"You know what I think?" It was a rhetorical question, yet somewhere deep inside Phoebe she knew she was going to get an answer, not one she wanted to hear.

"I think you like me. I think you _love _me, and you're jealous of Amy. You're jealous of all the love I have for her, the respect I have for that woman. Remember this _Phoebe_, you're nothing but an assistant. I never wanted you, and WWE never wanted you – they hired you just to make you do shit for me, and even then, you were, _useless. _WWE don't even want you, you'll never become part of a Creative Member team, you haven't got a single creative bone in your body, you wouldn't know what creative was even if it punched you in the face. You're a nobody, you're an unattractive bitch, no one will ever like you, no one will ever love you, they won't even look twice at you because you're a fucking creep that can't keep her big nose out of anyone's business. I know you also have a thing for Dolph, like he'd ever want someone like _you. _I am not your boss anymore and you are not my employee, I never wanted you and nor will I ever want you , so do everyone a favour, and get – the – fuck – out."

"Punk, I'm telling you the truth, I saw her –"

"STOP! Stop with the weak ass lies, they're pathetic, _you're pathetic_. I thought after 2 months, you had proved me wrong, you weren't some freak that loved me or whatever but I was wrong, You're a sad, lonely girl."

"Punk, I – "

"Phoebe."

Phoebe began to shake. She couldn't do it. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears streamed down her face, she knew where her place was, the thing that had hit her the most was the fact that Punk was right. She _did _like him, something about him drew her towards him – but she was wrong, so wrong. He was a hurtful, disgusting man – she had told him the truth, she had done him a favour. His words stung harder than if he'd punched her right in the face. The door closed behind her and she was gone, Phoebe was left with sadness, anger, loneliness, and utter disbelief as to the way he had just treated her. She hadn't been paranoid or jealous or "stalker-ish". She had been a woman simply trying to protect him from getting hurt, his heart tread on. The woman he loved so much had deceived him, and was laughing at him behind his back, he given her his heart and Amy had lied to him, cheated on him yet Phoebe was the one paying the price. Tears filled her eyes but there was nothing else she could do now. She was hurting like she had never hurt before, but at least now she knew how to get up from here, her head held high – _hopefully Punk would find out the hard way, hopefully not. But she was not out of his hair for good. Good riddance Punk. _


	9. Chapter 9

**a little shorter than usual but thanks for all the reviews, apologies for all the dialogue and the slow pace of the story but it'll pick up again, I promise don't bite my head off :))))))**

"Amy, will you marry me?" Punk was down on one knee in the tattoo parlour, soft, red velvet box in his hand, that contained The Forever Diamond 18 carat white gold and ¾ carat diamond ring – the parlour had been transformed into a birthday party for Amy, he had remembered her saying once that if anyone had ever proposed than she would get there name tattooed on the ring finger, Chuck was there with his needle ready in hand and was more than happy to help seal the deal for Punk and Amy's relationship. The night couldn't have gone more perfect, Punk pulled out on all the stops that night and really turned on the romance factor. There was always that 50/50 chance that she was going to say no, and the thought bugged Punk – not that he cared about Phoebe or what she had to say, but _why did she say it in the first place?_ It was ridiculously random, just out of the blue after not speaking in 2 months, he wasn't lying when he said that he thought that Phoebe was in love with him but, _what if she was right_, Punk thought bitterly. _Absurd_, she doesn't know anything, she's clueless, stupid, idiotic, it was a known fact that Amy didn't like her either, perhaps Phoebe was really out to get him and his new fiancé. The moment she left, Punk felt the anger boil over and replace itself with anxiety – that was until he saw the love of his life, wearing a simple Minor Threat shirt and knee length skirt with sneakers, minimal make up but simply flawless, perfection. Punk would never forget the way Amy's face lit up when he had gotten the box from out of his jeans pocket, and when he opened it, she was completely transformed, a smile wider than a Cheshire's cat, _just that 3 letter word Amy, just say it_ –

"Yes. Yes Punk, I'll marry you." Punk wasted little time, and placed the ring on her shaky finger, her whole body began to shake – she was crying but she still flashed him that million dollar smile.

_I'm the luckiest man alive, _Punk thought to himself.

Amy remained quiet, still processing everything that had happened tonight – honest to god she had no idea that this was going to happen, how could it have gotten this far. She knew Phil wasn't into the idea of marriage, she got that message a long time ago but never in a million years was she expecting _this_. The dinner, the flowers, the ring, the party – he had planned all of it and although Amy was feeling pretty overwhelmed, there was the un-desiring pain of guilt poking her. Her relationship with Matt had gotten serious. The other day he had suggested that Amy should dump Punk and move in with him – they would tour together, eat, drink, sleep, wake up with each other. It sounded perfect, but so did marrying Punk.

Phil's tattooed arm was draped over Amy's shoulder, her head nestled under his arm – It was snug and serene and she could hear a rhythmic sound of his heartbeat.

"Something, totally bizarre happened today."

"Mhm?" was all Amy could manage, as her attention turned towards Matt, who walking through the doors of the tattooed parlour, _that bastard_…_But I'm engaged – he'll know, of course he'll find out tonight, godamnit. _

"That bitch, Phoebe came to my hotel room today, and told me you were _cheating_ on me, what a fucking cunt!"

"Yeah, what a cunt," Amy's voice was barely audible as she locked eyes with Matt, he had a plastered grin all over his face a gift in on hand and a Pepsi filled champagne flute in the other, her hands were underneath the table, the engagement ring hidden from sight.

"I'm so sick of her, you know? She's always around, just _lurking_ like a fucking creep," Amy's eyes were still locked on Matt's, warmth and love had spread all over her body, just the sheer sight of him made her entire body tingle with excitement. _What was are doing, you're engaged to Punk._

"You could always try and, get her fired?" Amy tore her eyes away from Matt and gazed at Punk.

"You cannot be serious? That's so – "

"She'd be gone, forever, away from us for the rest of our lives. She'll get the message and she won't annoy you anymore, simple."

"You're so fucked up, that's awful – but it could work."

"There you go," Punk placed his lips onto Amy's, he placed his hand on her cheek, deepening the kiss, she had suddenly forgotten all about Matt until –

"Hope we're not interrupting," Matt settled his champagne flute onto the table, along with his gift to Amy, behind him were Colt, Lars and Natalie.

"Actually, ya are," Punk squeezed closer to Amy so everyone else could sit around the table. Everyone had already congratulated us but the guys couldn't contain there excitement. _We knew you guys were gonna seal the deal. You guys are perfect for each other. Punk, you're the luckiest man in the world_.

"Congratulations Amy, a birthday and engagement party? I should've bought two gifts," Matt smirked, he knew that Amy was squirming, she was feeling uncomfortable and guilty.

_All of it would go away if you just broke it off with Punk, now you're engaged. Well done, Amy._

Phoebe knew what day it was, hence why she saw how nice Punk looked – _he always looked nice_. She had left the hotel, still smiling, still politely holding doors open for people. That was who she was, she was the most fucking polite person even if she was dying inside. Still plastering a smile because she could never let people know she was hurting. _It made you weak and vulnerable Phoebe-sweetie _her father always said. Father, never a Dad.

"Dolph." She said into her phone. "It's me, Phoebe." She said sniffling, eyes filled with tears. She was finally in the comfort of her hotel room. "Please, can you come down to my room?" She asked. "Thank you." She said ending the call and throwing her phone down across the wall, watching it shatter. She was an emotional wreck, heart was beyond the point of broken. Her head wouldn't stop pounding, as if someone inside was hammering away at her skull. She was 100% done. A knock came at her door, she pulled it opened revealing Dolph.

"You rang? Oh hey, what's wrong?" Dolph asked stepping into the room. "What happened?" he asked shutting the door behind him, he noticed the mascara running down her face, even in the dark and the phone that lay broken on the bed.

"Punk." Phoebe's voice whimpered as she started to cry again. "I did it Dolph, I told him what I knew and he - ."

"Phoebe." Dolph said sympathetically, pulling her into a warm hug, she was cold, shivering – he had never seen her so vulnerable. "What did he say, what happened?" Dolph asked.

"He just laughed, said some things, don't really want to," she said pulling out of her Dolph's arms, shuddering as she stepped closer to the open window. "I'd never amount to anything, no one will ever want me etc." she laughed, using air quotes. "I can't believe , I ever cared for him." she screamed in anger.

"He's an asshole, everyone knows it – you cared because you're a great person, you're a wonderful, beautiful human being. It's gonna be okay, you just can't let him get to you," Dolph approached her, placing a hand behind her back trying to soothe her.

Phoebe sobbed silently, shaking her head. "No. It's not going to be OK. He made a fucking fool out of me, he hates me and doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm a failure and unlovable. He made me feel like shit, worthless, like everything would be better if I wasn't around." Dolph looked at her friend sadly, he didn't know what the right words were, what he needed to say, he didn't how to comfort her. Clearly there was nothing at this point he could say that would make her feel better, he was feeling anger, _what was going on with Punk, disrespectful bastard. _He trusted Phoebe 100%, if Phoebe said that Amy was cheating on him with some guy then he believed her.

"I'm gonna kill him," Dolph spoke through gritted teeth, seething as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"Nick, no. I don't want you to get involved, understand? I'm just dropping it, I don't care what he does, what happens to him is not my problem but I just can't deal with it right now."

"So what are you gonna do now?" Dolph asked.

Phoebe wiped her tears. "I don't know, maybe take some time off."

Dolph's eyes grew wide. " Phoebe don't, you can't "

"I can."

Dolph shook his, shook her hoping it would put some sense into her. "Don't do this Phoebe, don't let him win! He's not fucking worth it!"

"I'm not letting him win, I'm just tired, I need a break. I'll come back Nick I'm not going to leave you .. I've just been really feeling like I need a break, I deserve it. I need to see some familiar faces, you're the only person I know that gives a shit and I just feel so alone. I've not slept in weeks, I need to, grow up. I was just never prepared for the real world, I didn't think it would be like this, some time away would do me some good, I think, I hope."

"I think you're making a really big mistake, at least think about what you're doing. Give it 2 more weeks, hand in your notice then, you never know you might get your big break from the Creative. Have hope Phoebe, you're a brilliant woman and you can't let haters get to you." Dolph winked, taking her hand in his.

"You're such a spoon."

"I can't believe you called me Nick, no one calls me Nick," with his spare hand, Dolph ran his thump across her cheek, wiping the tears.

"I'm sorry, I won't if you don't want me to."

Dolph pressed his lips against Phoebe's cheek, "Don't, I like it when you say my name."


	10. Chapter 10

**nothing major, hope you like it - it'll get going, don't want to rush :) thanks for the reviews/favs/follows lovelies!**

"Phil there's something I need to tell you," Phil looked up from his comic book to look at Amy.

"There's something you should know, and it's been bugging me for quite a while, and you know you proposed to me tonight and I'm so happy right now but it's totally caught me off guard and – "

"Amy, what're the matter, you can tell me anything, you know that."

Amy's palms began to sweat, she had the sudden urge to throw up, crawl into bed and forget about everything, she had been holding this off for too long.

"The thing is Punk – Matt …"

"Matt?" Punk urged Amy to carry on.

"Matt has invited me to tour with him." Punk threw down his comic and lept up to give his new fiancé a hug, this wasn't the reaction she was expecting, probably because she hadn't told him the whole truth.

"The tour starts in a month, a world tour for 10 months." Amy felt Punk's body tense, his arms were still wrapped around Amy but she knew that the news wasn't what he was expecting.

"You're going to be away from 10 months." Stating, instead of questioning, Amy knew Punk was away months on end, however he always made time to come and see her at gigs, have lunch, dinner, come visit her in Chicago – this was different, she wouldn't be able to visit, and barely having time to skype, or call, Punk hardly did it while he as on the road. Punk eventually let go and looked at Amy - she held a birthday card in one hand and a letter in the other.

"Amy I'm so proud of you, well done, really. You're gonna go? You're gonna travel the world – again?"

She shifted her gaze to look at Phil, "Of course I am Phil, I mean, are you okay with this, I know you just proposed to me and stuff?"

"Amy, do you want to wait 10 months to get married, or 1 month – because Amy it doesn't matter when we're getting married, I just, I want to marry you, I'd marry you know if I could Amy, and if possible I want to marry you as soon as possible. I don't want to put you on the spot, but what do you think about getting married next month?"

Amy couldn't have said no to Phil at the tattoo parlour, he would've want some explanation if she did, she loved Phil, and she knew she was falling in love with Matt, marrying Phil could evaporate those feelings for Matt and help her move on with her new married life with Phil, but then – what if her feelings only grew stronger if she did go on this tour. Still, no one else knew, except her, Matt and that bitch Phoebe. She was glad that Phil hadn't believed her, she was never worried about that in the first place – one of her relationships had to end, and it wasn't going to be the one where she was engaged to. She genuinely cared about Phil, she did love him – she just got _lonely_, had needs that Phil never fulfilled. It all sounded right and acceptable in her head, but she was just kidding herself, every day she looked in the mirror and had the urge to vomit, disgust written all over her face just thinking about what she had done to Phil.

"I'll let you know in the morning, I – I need to go to Mark about this whole thing. There's loads of things I need to sort out in so little time."

"You can go in the morn – " By the time he had opened his mouth, she had grabbed her coat, phone and bag and was out the door. "ing."

Amy cautiously knocked on Matt's apartment door, _this was it, she had to end it, even if she loved him, there could only be one man in her life_. She had been here so many times, had so many great memories, fun, sexy, occasionally romantic it always let her wanting more. She heard footsteps approaching the door and saw him open the door.

"Amy." There was confusion in his voice, a sort of seductiveness, luring – intimidating, sexy, the way he stood his arm leaning against the doorway, _godamnit Amy, stop it remember why you're here._

"Hey Matt, can we talk?" Matt silently backed away and let Amy enter – _familiar scent, not the bachelor kind, sweet homey feel. _"I have to thank you for the invitation to tour with you, I am so stoked, the greatest present I got this year aft – ". Matt grabbed her by the arm and pulled her gently towards him. It was what he had been wanting for since he saw her tonight, saw her with Punk's arm draped over her shoulder like he possessed her or something. His lips hungrily captured hers, soon she was kissing back. _After Punk proposed to me _Amy thought after Matt rudely interrupted her by kissing her. Matt loved the taste of her, he _craved _it on a daily basis. He couldn't stop kissing her and she reciprocated his eagerness as she struggled to stand the kiss felt that intense. She withered and moaned as Matt tried to peel off her jacket, it fell to the floor but he wasn't done, not satisfied until her shirt was off too. Lust filled his eyes as he saw Amy in front of him topless, he dreamed about this even after the many times they were together, his eyes darkening them and suddenly Amy felt afraid. This was wrong. She knew this was wrong. It was wrong. She was still there topless not moving from Matt's grasp. What was she doing? This wasn't supposed to happen, he wasn't supposed to make her feel things like this, Phil was. She had a fiancé that she loved, who loved her. She couldn't be in a hotel room like this with _Matt_.

Matt sensed her fears, every time this happened. She backed away a bit but instead he ran his hands all over her behind, perfectly round, perfect to squeeze in the palm of his hand. His lips savaged her neck, he groaned at the sight of her in just her bra and her skirt that emphasised her behind so well. He slid the first bra strap down with his teeth, running his tongue at the exposed flesh of her shoulder, eventually the need to see her breasts exploded within him as he ripped the lace away from her body with such force she squealed. In one quick motion and a single hand, he unsnapped her bra and watched it fall to the floor along with her jacket. Breasts so natural, firm and just the right size for him. He placed his palms on either one, squeezing the warm skin. He smiled to himself as he felt her nipples harden underneath his touch.

Amy let out a deep moan the moment his tongue found her breasts, suckling it softly before he licked and gentle bit her, sending her spiralling into what turned out to be an erotic explosion. Amy had been with Phil many times, sex, love making – but nobody had ever made her feel like that and her jeans were still on. Matt picked her up and carried her to the bed, dropping her on it as he kneeled over her. She waited silently, from what she could hear he had taken off every shred of clothing he had on, his jeans, shirt, socks, shoes, anything to make this easier, the clink of his belt being undone and clattering to the floor. He was left in a pair of Calvin Klein briefs with a huge bulge in the middle – the thought of running her hand along it, the noise she knew he'd make almost tugged at her loins.

Again Matt could see the hesitation, in attempt to calm her he planted kisses on every inch of skin, this time lowering his head until he was playing near her belly button. One finger grazed over the her silk underwear _she was wet, always waiting, for him_. There was a pool between her thighs, excitement had shot through his entire body. He rubbed her above the material, and watched as she thrashed back and forth, letting her grab him for assistance, scratching and grasping.

When she finally let go, Matt rolled her on her back and Amy knew what was coming next. This was it. She had to stop it now. He came towards her but she couldn't speak. Instead she put her right hand up and pushed him away. It was the only thing she could do to resist but he ignored her and seconds later, his dick, throbbing and waiting poked at her into her centre. He was lengthy and big, just how she remembered, just how she liked it. He sunk into her, feeling the sensitive walls stretch so he could settle the pleasure in. After a few thrusts, he pulled out completely, sneering at her, quietly daring her to make the next move. _This is what you want Amy, just admit it, end your relationship with Phil._ Letting out a groan, she reached behind and grabbed the cheeks of his ass, raking her nails across his flesh as she pushed him into her.

With his right index finger playing with her clit, Matt fucked her fast and hard and deep. He could hear and feel how wet she was. He put one of her feet against his shoulder and just watched as she lashed and moaned beneath him, eyes rolling back in her head. He pulled out and before she could protest again, he flopped down on the bed and guided her on top of him. She rode him steady, finally leaning back so enjoying every thrust, every slam. He felt better than he had ever imagined and all he wanted to do was have sex with her all night in every possible position, hug her, talk to her, and protect her in his arms all night.

With one hand on her breast and one hand between her legs, Amy kept up the glare she had held on Matt, passionately driving her bit on the side. _Was that all Matt was, no, she liked him, a lot_. This time round, the sex was so intense and passionate and last but not least, mind blowing. She had never come that many times in one night ever, her orgasm just lasting minutes on end. Closing her eyes, all she could think about was the moment, what she was feeling, what they were doing. She couldn't allow herself to think about Phil – right now she was loving the feel of Matt's dick, his hands digging into her skin, the protectiveness she felt from him. It was something that she wasn't used to – there was still something she needed an answer to, a question that was annoying her - "what do you think about getting married next month?"

They had finished, having come three times, she knew her fiancé was waiting for her back at their apartment – she had shimmied back into her clothes and watched Matt sleeping soundlessly, he didn't snore and he actually did sleep, unlike Phil. _What was she doing? Was she really making a pros and cons list about her lovers and sex partner? _Nothing was resolved, her intention to come here and completely gone haywire and she was still feeling shitty, if possible shittier – the guilt had caused her to cry, tears strolled down her face, for fucks sake Phoebe's words echoed within her head, damn her to hell. She really needed to fix this but her worst nightmares had come true – _she was in fact in love with Matt, she was kidding herself, she loved his smile, his voice, the way he listened to her without interrupting, talking to her, actually talking to her face to face_. She glanced her hands, the engagement ring mocking her. _You're a cheating slut, a cheating little whore, this is only going to get worse Amy. _She wanted to ignore that voice, and that's what she did, pecking Matt on the head she went for the door, closing it as quietly as she could. She had finally got Matt's answer.

"Ma'am, I was wondering if I could talk to you if you had a minute?" It was Monday morning, Superstars would be flying in at the moment, some arriving in limos and expensive cars, but she was here at the arena 8am, working for Del Rio, running other errands people dumped on her.

"Please call me Stephanie, what's up Phoebe?" Stephanie invited me in, her office was cosy yet corporate, it had photos of her whole family, stuffed animals from her daughters who occaasionaly roam the arena when the show is in full swing, yet the office was cluttered with important documents, files and WWE PPV posters.

"I understand you need a two week notice if you want to take some time off." Phoebe spoke with precaution, she didn't know Stephanie that well, therefore was unaware of how she'd take the news of Phoebe wanting to take time off.

"Yes that's right, you want to take some time off?"

Phoebe shuffled her feet awkwardly, "Yes, if that's not too much trouble."

"Here's the form, any particular reason?" Phoebe had the urge to spill everything, everything with Punk, what had happened with him a couple of days ago, the frustration and the impatience of waiting for any opportunity of her becoming a creative writer. Phoebe took the form from Stephanie and was on her way out.

"I didn't really bother asking Punk if you were a good assistant for him but I did get a chance to ask Alberto – he said you were fantastic and has never met such a hard working employee in his life. So – I had been meaning to get hold of you because, after your little break, however long you're going away for, when you come back, hopefully if you do decide to come back – there's a Creative spot with your name on it. Paul wanted to interview, but I told him, we've already found the perfect person for the job."

Phoebe was speechless, she was certainly not expecting this, after everything, all the shit that was going on she was ecstatic, she had _finally_ gotten her big break, taking a break didn't seem to matter anymore – _no, you need it, you need time to sort yourself out. _

"Stephanie, thank you so much, I can't believe it! You really mean this, honestly?"

"I didn't stutter." Stephanie grinned, barring all her teeth into a sincere smile.

"Thank you so much, again – I, I have so many ideas I'd like to pitch to you and – "

"Phoebe, if you want, you can take time off now, touch up on your pitches if you want and when you come back, how long are you thinking of taking off?"

"2 weeks actually."

"After 2 weeks, you can pitch me your ideas and we'll go from there – if that works easier for you?"

"Stephanie, you're an amazing woman, thank you. I erm, I guess I'll see you after 2 weeks."

"Can't wait to hear what you've come up with," Phoebe turned towards the door, she felt a smile that she hadn't felt in weeks, it felt good to smile, she was happy and she was finally taking a break.

"Oh and Phoebe?"

"I hope you're not taking a break, or running away from something, or someone." Her voice was stern, Phoebe was easy to read but she turned back around, swallowing hard.

"No, Stephanie, I'll see you after 2 weeks. Thank you."


	11. Chapter 11

**this is probably the chapter you've all been waiting for, hope it please you, i'm not really keen on it - not great on writing emotion but hope this doesn't disappoint, again thank you for all the reviews, follows and favourites! XOXOXO**

The next 3 weeks flew by, Punk and Amy didn't even get a chance to breath, only recently she just purchased the perfect wedding dress, she didn't even have time to think about Matt, _Matt. _Invitations had gotten sent out, flower arrangements fixed, Punk had even asked Lars if they would perform at their wedding so a band was already booked with no charge. Bridesmaids dresses picked, Amy had chosen her maid of honour, a childhood friend, Annie who had been working alongside Colt – Annie had virtually organised the entire wedding however Colt only had one job. Taping everything and ring bearing. Everywhere he went, every person who had been part of Punk and Amy's lives he had interviews secretly without Amy and Punk knowing. So far he had come up with a few good things, sentimental, funny, emotionalal, nostalgic memories that he couldn't wait to put together. He was making his was up to see Matt and the Amy's band – he still had to interview them and he was done. Wedding day was today and everyone was busy – including the best man.

Colt knocked on Matt's door, fiddling with the camera, damned thing was so hard to work. The door opened and saw Matt suiting up."Oh, hey Colt, what's up man?"

"I'm interviewing everyone, making a little video together for Punk's wedding, gonna play it during my best man speech. You're pretty close with Amy and you're the last person on my list."

Matt had to control every ounce of his body for him roll his eyes. _Oh dear god, I am not in the mood for this shit, it's bad enough Amy is getting married tonight, godamnit!_

"Listen can we do this later Colt, I'm not feeling so good man, promise I'll do it later – think it's something I ate you know," Colt understood, at least now he could spend a little more time with Punk, who had been ready for half an hour now.

"I'll see you later man, hope you're feeling better," Colt handed the camera to Matt, "If you have time, when you're feeling better, leave a little message."

"Right, sure thanks," Matt took the camera and waited for Colt to leave before shoving it on the shelf beside him. Frustration and irritation was building up inside him, but right now he knew he needed to get ready. _Amy had a big day today. _

Punk's family had flown in yesterday and spent the whole day prepping Amy for her big day, make up, hair, whatever she needed tending to. The bride and groom hasn't seen each other all day, even though it was only hours ago they made love, Amy watched quietly as Chaleen painted her nails, a black matt nails that contrasted against her dress. "You and my brother are so cute, me, Chez and Cassie have been waiting for years for this to happen, I'm so happy for you Amy."

While Amy sat patiently waiting for her nails to dry while Chez zipped Amy's sleeveless white lace dress up, it was perfect. The one Amy had wanted ever since she was a little girl, it was so girly, so feminine – unlike hers. Amy stood in front of the mirror, admiring her bright red hair she dyed only a couple of days ago for the wedding, her eyes trailed down, from her stilettos to her entire dress, it was fitting and had an entire train made of just lace. She gazed at herself in the mirror, today was supposed to be her wedding day but there was one thing on her mind, she placed two hands on her hip trying to concentrate on anything but. "Today's the day I become Mrs Amy Brooks."

Chaleen shook her head smirking at Amy. "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Chaleen, I'm just going for a walk, need some time to myself for a bit, you know before I tie the knot, think you can cover for me?" Amy was already heading towards the hotel room, Phil's three sisters had already started getting ready "Chez come on, give me the straighteners we're going to be late."

She descend down towards the hallway and walked out to find Matt's hotel room. It was slightly chilly, it was nearing towards October and she was only wearing her sleeveless wedding dress, nothing underneath but brand new lace underwear.

_I should've stayed back at the hotel room_.

She eventually found the room he was staying in, _557, _she raised a fist towards the wooden door – she was beyond hesitant but managed to knock three times. She heard shuffling behind the door, _why was she here, why was she doing this?_ She only had seconds left to turn back around and leave, the door slid open to reveal Matt, he noticed she gave him a charming smile, one that would usually make her heart melt, right now it was losing it's effect. He was probably thinking she was there for entirely another reason.

She opened her mouth and he quickly intercepted her, he didn't really have an interest in what she was going to say.

"What are you doing here?"

"What?"

"You should go back."

"You know I love him,"- She gave him a moment to let her words sink in before she continued.

"Do you know what the crazy, stupid thing is – I still love you." Matt stepped forward, placing his hand on the small of her back, lightly tracing his finger through the silk material.

"I'm getting married."

"So you think all of this - this is all going to go away, do you?"

Amy's voice, quiet and timid, barely even audible responded, "Yeah."

"As long as you're sure. As long as you're sure you made the right choice."

She pursed her lips, not letting his tone get to her.

"I love Phil"- She informed him, making her serious tone come across since it looked like she was going to have to spell it out to him.

He simply scoffed. His response making her boil to her core.

"I do"

"Sure you do"- She wanted to smack, slap and punch him all in that order but she took a deep breath in. She wasn't even sure why she was even bothering to explain herself to him, she didn't owe him a damn thing.

"Just leave me alone"- She added, turning away, seizing the opportunity he grabbed her by her elbow and captured her lips in a scorching kiss - she struggled for a moment. He dragged the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip and when she parted her lips giving him access, his tongue darted inside yearning for the familiar taste that was uniquely hers, enjoying every moment her tongue sought after his.

He felt her body start to relax and he let go of her wrists, letting his hands drag slowly down the soft skin of her arms, grazing her breasts, she arched into his touch and the desire to strip her wedding gown and fuck her hard passed through his mind.

He felt her arms wrap around him, her hand resting on the back of his neck toying with the stray strands of hair that didn't settle, her fingers idly stroking the spot back there that she knew drove him insane.

He couldn't get enough of her, his fingers desperately seeking any trace of naked skin but because of her sweater the only skin he had to touch was her neck. Before he knew what was happening, her arms came down to rest on his chest and she was breaking the kiss resting her forehead against his, her breathing slowly evening out.

"I'm sure"- She whispered.

"I'm sorry, alright I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me – I just can't bear to see you with another man. Amy I just can't help it, I just-just just one more time." Matt began stroking her arm, slowly and seductively.

"That's never gonna happen, never – gonna – happen. I don't want this! I'm going to marry Phil, that's it for me and you."

"Just like that?"

"What is it that you want? It's done Matt, it's over." Matt perched himself at the end of the bed, rubbing his temples in circular motion trying to calm himself down - Amy stood by the door frame, exasperated and frustrated at the sight of Matt.

"I could've gone either way, I _was _going to tell him the truth, but the thought of his face when if I told him, all the _trust_ he put in me, believing in me. He has no idea what a _whore _I've been and then I thought, _why_? Why throw away all that love, Phil is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and when I'm old and on my death bed I'm not gonna be thinking about a quick, easy fuck in your bed, no that's nothing – I'm going to be thinking about the years, day after day when I woke up next to somebody who looks at me like Phil does. Who makes all the bad things go away, all of them, and Phil does that for me. Look I've got feelings for you Matt, and I always will have. No one's perfect Matt, Phil's as good as it gets for me and can live with that." Amy headed towards the door, she was fighting back tears until Matt spoke.

"Don't go."

"Goodbye Matt."

Annie, Chez, Chaleen, Cassie, Trish, Shane, Racci, Nattie, Lars, Hayley and Jay all made their way out to the created aisle outside that led to the gazebo where the ceremony would take place. Chez, Chaleen, and Cassie all lined up. Annie had chosen her daughter Lana to be the flower girl, since Amy was the godmother, Annie heard the pre-bride march music play sending off Lana on her way down the aisle Annie following a few paces behind.

Amy took hold of her Shane's arm feeling the nerves start to run rampant again. She looked down at her dress trying to find anything out of place. "Does my wedding gown look okay, is there something in my hair, wait does my make-up need touching up?"

Shane turned to look at his fellow band member, "You look fine, you look _perfect_, you look amazingly beautiful there's nothing wrong with you Amy. Never will be."

Shane saw a tear roll down her cheek, which she quickly swept away trying to hide it. "You're such a pussy."

He smiled reassuringly at her patting her hand holding onto his arm gently. They heard the music fade off and the beginnings of the bride-march. "You ready hun?"

Amy nodded gripping onto Shane's arm just a little tighter, "If you trip me up, I swear I'm going to strangle you."

"In front of God?"

"In front of God."

Smirking, they started out making their appearance. Punk looked up from the ground at his bride and he had never seen anything more beautiful – _she's perfect, and she's mine_. Amy met his gaze and she flashed him a toothy smile, smiling so hard her face almost hurt, but she didn't care, she loved him so goddamn much. Amy kept her eyes on him the whole walk down feeling perfectly relaxed with her Shane by her side and Phil waiting for her. Although her real father wasn't here to see this, she wasn't disappointed, she didn't want him here. He left her and her mother and he had a wonderful family with her right now.

When Shane and Amy reached the gazebo Punk came down a few steps to meet them, Shane felt Amy's arm slip from his her hand grasping his giving it a small squeeze. He looked at Punk for a few seconds then placed Amy's hand in Punk's - the minister smiled as Amy and Punk came to stand in front of him. "Who gives this woman to be married in holy matrimony?"

Shane cleared his throat. "I do." The minister nodded as he went to take his seat next to Jay.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Punk slid the wedding ring on her finger smiling at her looking happier than Matt had ever seen her. He couldn't help but wonder how much happier Amy would be if she was marrying him, if he had plucked up the courage to wed Amy, place a ring on her beautiful fingers.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Amy slid Punk's wedding band on his hand.

Matt knew what was coming next. "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Punk smiled gently at Amy then leaned in forward, pressing his lips against her soft ones, sealing their marriage. Despite his hurt, Matt smiled and clapped because he'd never seen Amy so happy like she, her smile never broke, she looked at Punk like he was the one for her. It was something he'd never forget, because it hurt it so much, he started to cry.

The reception had started, Phil was still was still in his suit however Amy changed into something more comfortable, something just as beautiful and elegant – it was held in the Punk's garden and guests came flocking in. By the time everyone was seated, and as they were about to tuck into the wedding cake, no frosting as Punk requested, Colt decided it was time to start the best man speech.

"Punk, baby – you are one tattooed mother fucker,and you're my best friend. I'm so glad, so happy that this day has finally happened, it feels like yesterday when you two had told me to push me to do this _padcast_. I love you two, and I wish you the happiest marriage, no doubt that it will be and Amy, you still need to hook me up with one of your girlfriends, I can't get with the bridesmaids here, they're Punk's sisters for fuck's sake! Instead of crying and reminiscing the nostalgic shit, I made a video for you guys so you know how much everyone loves you, because Punk isn't my only tattooed motherfucker, so are you Amy. Enjoy"

Colt had set up a projector and a screen to showcase the video he had made, he was so worried that he had lost the goddamn video recorder until he remembered that he had left it in Matt's room. The night was upon them, thus dimming the atmosphere so that it was like a cinema. The video began to roll, playing clips from Chez, Cassie and Chaleen, Colt swore he could see Punk crying, it was the sweetest shit he had ever seen, Amy pulled him into a tight squeeze as she too noticed how emotional he was getting.

"Phil, we love you so much, you have always been there for us and you're the best big brother anyone could ever ask for. We're so proud of you, of what you've done, what you've achieved, tying the knot with Amy was the best thing you've ever done - we wish you a happy marriage, you deserve it."

The next message came from Lars and his buddies from Rancid, then came the Paramore clang, Michael and eventually Colt's message that made everyone laugh. When everyone thought it was over the video began to skip and stutter, to what looked like a hotel room.

Matt's heart stopped. _Oh no, goddamn it Colt, you didn't shut the damn camera off?!_

"Is this your message Matt? One sec lemme just fast-forward t your message."

"NO! STOP!" Matt knew exactly what was coming, Amy flashed a look of anxiety, fear in her eyes, she didn't know what was happened, she had a faint idea but she didn't think, of course it wasn't, _no. God no, please. _

_"That's never gonna happen, never – gonna – happen. I don't want this! I'm going to marry Phil, that's it for me and you."_

_"Just like that?"_

_"What is it that you want? It's done Matt, it's over." _

_"I could've gone either way, I was going to tell him the truth, but the thought of his face when if I told him, all the trust he put in me, believing in me. He has no idea what a whore I've been and then I thought, why? Why throw away all that love, Phil is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and when I'm old and on my death bed I'm not gonna be thinking about a quick, easy fuck in your bed."_

Amy had gone over to stop the video tape, Punk had grabbed her by the wrist forcing her to sit back down. _No Phil, you don't want to hear this, you don't want to see this._ she wanted to be sick, she felt all the food she had just eaten make its way up – tears had already ruined the make-up on her face. Every single on of her friends was here, _the love of her life Phil was here_ to see this. Then everyone saw the kiss, that Matt had placed on Amy's lip, everyone saw the way Amy had kissed Matt back, so passionately with such love and lust.

There were gasps, whispers, people were laughing, _did this look like some kind of joke?!_

Colt had finally stopped the tape, and all eyes were on Amy, expecting some sort of an explanation as to what they had just seen, what was displayed on the screen they had just seen.

Amy stepped forward to touch Punk's arm, soothe him and tell him that wasn't what it looks like, "Phil." Punk flung Amy's arm away from him, shoving her away like she was vermin.

"Phil I'm sorry."

"GET - THE – FUCK - away from me." Punk ran towards the table that held the wedding cake, tossing the table so that the cake landed with a thud, the entire thing splattering across the patio floor. People began to scream. This time he was crying, not because he was happy or feeling like the luckiest guy in the world, - he needed to get away from _her_, from everyone. Punk was already picking his legs up, running away. Running as far away as he could from the bitch that betrayed him.


	12. Chapter 12

**new chapter, thank you lovelies for sticking to this story, love the support, love the new follows, favs, reviews, summerslam is tomorrow bitches, and found out i might be going to a Raw show when they're over here in Manchester, so yeah, i'm a happy girl :3  
hope you enjoy this chapter, i don't know, i never know, let me know!**

Punk sat quietly cross legged in his old tree house, watching the sun go down over the valley with a ice cold Pepsi in his hand, a tree house that once he and Colt made when they were bored from moving into the first house he had ever bought. Chicago had been a bit chilly still, a week had gone by and he still thought about the wedding, it was supposed to be _perfect, magical_, and something he'd always remember for the rest of his life and feel good about it. _This was definitely going to stay with him forever. _He was a married man now, and what he needed now was an annulment.

He took a drink of his Pepsi and slowly swallowed, tapping the mouth of the bottle slowly against his bottom lip. He had hoped his mind wouldn't still be all over the place when he returned back to his old home, but somehow the events still churned in his head, or more specifically one specific person: Amy. Now Mrs Amy Dumas-Brooks, international heart-breaker extraordinaire. The last person he ever wanted to see – he didn't want to see her, talk to her or even think about her but somehow that was what he ending up doing the moment he woke up till the minute he fell asleep, he'd be lucky if he did sleep at all.

Her tousled red hair than shun brighter in the sunlight, just below her shoulders, with long, side-swept bangs that kept sliding into her eyes and she kept pushing out of her face. It suited her well, drawing attention to her green doe eyes. That smoky, soft voice, like she was constantly getting over a cold, had wrapped itself around his name and somehow played on repeat in his head all night. Yes, he remembered her. How could he not?

This woman he had given his heart to, who he had a crush on for almost 15 years, the woman who had broken it within minutes. Every morning, he would wake up angry, frustrated and confused. He was hurt, though it pained him as much to admit it. _CM Punk can never get hurt, he is the chick magnet, no one, not anything could ever – hurt – C M Punk._

She had left him humiliated, in front of his closest family members, in front of his peers and work colleagues that he would have to see everyday, friends that he's known his whole life, before the wrestling, before he was known as CM Punk, but when he was a vulnerable, loner, punk kid named as Phillip Brooks. He had no doubts that the video had gone viral by now, TMZ headlines mocking him. The thought of returning back to work made his skin crawl – the moment he set foot into work he knew there would be his friends taking pity, _everything's going to be okay, you'll work it out with Amy, there are other girls for you. _Truth was – everything _wasn't_ going to be okay, he _didn't_ want to work things out with Amy, things were never going to be okay with him and Amy, there relationship as friends, lovers was over. He didn't want to be with any other woman, he was always alone, and that's how Punk liked it. Alone.

To say he was heart broken was an understatement. There had been more than a few days after she had left the last time when he'd considered tracking her down, he had deleted her number the day he had started staying at his old home, because he knew he would want to use it, call her, he had no idea what he was going to say. Probably remind her that she was a slut, a whore – but even he didn't have the guts to do that. _CM Punk, the guy who always told the truth no matter how harsh_. But despite all the logical arguments his head could give as reasons to forget her, he couldn't seem to actually do it. However, to his let down, it did not seem like these feelings were mutual.

After the initial shock he had so many questions, but then she'd already gone, no doubt with the motherfucker _Matt_ and if _that _didn't anger him to his core he didn't know what would. He had guessed that she had taken Matt _damn him to hell_, on the honeymoon that Punk had carefully planned for 2 days straight. No doubt they were making love on a beach somewhere. Cassie, Chez and Chaleen had called, and left a countless amount of messages on his phone, asking about him, asking about _Amy damn her to hell_, he had decided to not answer them. He was there big brother, someone they looked up to, someone they never saw break down and quit. But that's what he was doing, he thought as he sat staring into the abyss that was the night sky.

He couldn't exactly cross-examine Matt either, not while he was still livid, he hadn't managed to get any answers; he couldn't go back to his apartment on the other side of Chicago, everything that reminded him of her would be there.

Punk would constantly remind himself of the first time he had met Matt, about 3 years ago when he had been drafted to WWE and she was still his friend and she wanted to start a band. It had all clicked, everything made sense, light bulbs were flashing – they had spent so much time together, regardless if they were in a band or not. He hadn't even seen him, or heard of him, Amy had not made any attempts of getting in touch with him, which had broke him down even more, knowing that they didn't care. Sure, Punk could've punched him in the face, broke his ribs, broke his legs, but what about Punk. The two of them had broken him emotionally.

A gentle ruffling from outside, soft crunching of leaves, grunting and groaning he turned his head to see Colt standing behind him, he was panting, struggling to pull himself into the tree house, hands gripping onto the oak wood they had built the tree house with.

"I knew it, you tattooed motherfucker." Punk didn't respond, and waited till he felt his shadow hovering over him.

"I remember when we built this, we spent all fucking day, I nailed my finger, bled all over the place. And when we finished, we fell asleep and we were fucking cold so we ended up cuddled."

"What happened to "never talking about what happened after we built this tree house," Punk laughed, a bitter taste still left in his mouth.

"We're all worried about you man."

"Has Amy called?"

Colt was silent, Punk got his answer – he tossed his empty Pepsi bottle outside with the rest of them and started on a new one. He noticed that his friend had lost a considerable amount of weight. Still toned and muscular, but the loss of weight didn't go unnoticed.

"Phil, come on."

"What Scott? Fucking what? What am I supposed to do? Go back to work, pretend that my _wedding _never happened? Pretend I never saw that video? Pretend I'm dying inside, Amy never betrayed me, cheated on me."

"All my friends, all my peers know what a failure I am, they're going to pity me, feel sorry for me - you're doing it now. They''ll know I was never able to satisfy Amy like that bastard, Matt. This is never going to leave me, I've got serious trust issues, I can't trust anyone any more, I can't go into work, they're all just, Scott, I can't go."

"No. Stop. No one's feeling sorry for you, we're sorry about what happened because if it happened to me, well - look, you're you. You're CM Punk, you don't take shit from anybody, you have nothing to worry about when you go back to work. But, man, you can't live like this. When was the last time you ate, you look like you've dropped 15 pounds – you're hurt now, of course you're hurt but fuck man, you need to wrestle. You need to take a shower, eat like 20 pizza's, punch some weights. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There's nothing I can say that will make you feel better, make this pain go away or whatever but you're gonna have to move on, sooner or later. Amy's a bitch we've all established that, and Matt's a bastard. Lucky for you I got all of Amy's shit and dropped it off at her place. Nothing in your apartment will remind you of her and you know what, you don't even need to go there because I've packed your bag, you're gonna come to my place, we're gonna watch some movies, eat, eat, sleep and you're gonna get your ass out of Chicago."

Punk was dumbfounded at Colt – he was literally speechless. He was right, nothing he could say or would say would make him feel better – he would have to channel his anger into his wrestling, and he too had noticed how thin he had gotten. The Pepsi's hadn't helped with his insomniac sleeping pattern, but he needed to sleep in a proper bed. He couldn't help but feel slightly better, happier – he couldn't even remember what it felt like to feel happy. He followed Colt out of the tree house, when his feet reached the grass he found Lars, Chris, Chez's mom, Chez Chaleen and Cassie standing idly by, not knowing what to say, what was the right thing to say.

"I was so worried about you," Chez's mom wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his chest. Punk's chest constricted, he suddenly felt selfish having excluded himself from the rest of his family for so long, he hadn't thought about his family. "NEVER do that again! I was so upset, _we _were all so upset!"

"I'm sorry, ma come on, I'm sorry." He wrapped his tattooed ones around the tiny women who continued sobbing – he cast his eyes around the group of people that were here, there was one person missing. He hated her, he hated her guts but he missed her _so much_. She always knew the right words to say, how to comfort him and soothe him when he was down – she wasn't here to see him at his most vulnerable state. He was glad, wasn't he?

"Let's go get those pizza's." Chez's mom realised her grip, but reached for Punk's hand gripping it with love and security – he wanted food, he wanted the hatred that was bubbling inside of him to disappear, he wished he never saw that video - but after a week since he last saw her, he knew it was finally time to get a grip, and return back to the WWE.

Phoebe leaned back against in head rest in her seat on the aeroplane that would take her to Stamford, Connecticut – she could not believe how smoothly everything had gone so far – no delays, everything seemed to have waited for her, the train, the shuttle bus,, this plane – but she couldn't wait to get off and into her hotel room before she had to head out and sightsee around the area. She had never been to Connecticut so this was definitely new.

The 2 long weeks she had off had made her realised how tired she was really feeling, months of slaving away had paid off. She visited family and friends, went shopping, saw friends, bowling, cinema, hiking, rock climbing, went gliding – every day was something different. The air was warm and moist in Boston when she first arrived that morning, she was feeling at an all-time low, she felt so lonely, no idea who she was anymore. She went from crying the moment she woke up, crying in the shower, crying in the car when travelling to the next city – to not having a single worry, waking up happy, motivated and feeling good about herself. _Like she had something to live for._

She hadn't thought about Punk, or her mixed feelings towards Dolph in a long time – it felt good, she felt strangely healthy. After the two weeks had passed she knew it was time to put on her big girl pants and get back to work. She was finally on her way to making dreams come true, writing captivating storylines – god bless Stephanie McMahon. It was going to be a beautiful day in Connecticut, Phoebe could tell. All the time she was in Boston there were no screaming fan girls, no matches, no hectic back stage drama, no travelling, hotel beds – but she missed it. It was going to be different living in a new city, but she knew she would occasionally have to travel with Stephanie to the live shows – she was prepared and so ready.

There were no clouds left, and by the time she reached Connecticut there was a pinky, purple orange coloured horizon emerging, she had gotten out of the plane, having not slept a wink in 46 hours, she grabbed her one and only suitcase, and stripped down her jacket. She had ditched the corporate look, and settled for comfort slash professional – blazer, skinny jeans, and a wrestling shirt of some sort, just no more five inch heels. Today it was converse, another day beetle crushers, another day Docs.

It was so different here, and it seemed to Phoebe that the people here were not his kind of people – ridiculously shallow, judgemental, and extremely rude. _Anything's better than being backstage at the WWE arena – _she thought sadly, did anyone even remember her, all the people I had once had lunch with, conversed in conversation. Was I just Punk's assistant, Alberto's assistant. _Of course you were darling, you were nothing _more. She ran her hand through her brunette. feathery hair, and smiled to himself._ Might as well make the most of it Phoebe_, she thought.

Tomorrow was her big day, and she couldn't be more nervous for anything. Well, he _was_ a little excited, but this was a new chapter in her life, she hadn't been an assistant long, in all honesty she thought she would be doing that gig for at least another year. But tomorrow she would add another accomplished goal to her list – _fingers crossed, all goes well_.


	13. Chapter 13

**Enjoy babies! Hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks again for the reviews/follows/favs!**

"Obviously, Punk was ambushed at Summerslam first by Kevin Nash who assaulted him when Punk retained and also when _Alberto Del Dio _cashed in his Money in the Bank briefcase, which then led to Triple H _your husband_, stating that he wanted Nash to attack the champion regardless of who it was.

"Now, I don't know how you feel about this – but as we know, Night of Champions is next month. CM Punk should be livid right now, of course he should be – he was attacked after a 40 minute match and having retained, still lost it because of Kevin Nash and Triple H. I reckon we could start a feud with Triple H, Nash and Punk with his loud mouth and tendancy to … insult other people. I want him to take his aggression out on not only Nash and your husband but also you Stephanie. What we expected was Punk vs Nash at Night of Champions but initially, it'll be your husband versus Punk, in honour of you since you and Punk will be having some segments. Verbal abuse, and what not."

Stephanie McMahon was impressed. That hadn't been the plan for Night of Champions, when Phoebe walked in this morning Stephanie had her doubts, she was apprehensive and didn't expect what she had just heard. It reminded her of her father, this is something he would like; it was just a shame that him and her husband weren't here to hear the storyline ideas being pitched.

"Now, I know you're not Punk's biggest fan and neither am I but he is the WWE Universe's favourite at the moment and let's not forget he's the underdog. He has says things that nobody has the balls to say – this would be such a twist, such a turn of events. I know initially we want to give the Championship back to Punk but I think we should make Punk wait."

"How long were you thinking of keeping him waiting?"

"At least 2 more pay-per-views."

"Well my dad and my husband aren't here, and I really wish they were because my dad would love this only he would ask if he could get involved with the storyline. He would say "_why not the whole family?" _ But I don't want him to get a heart attack especially after what happened with the whole pipe bomb incident. I make the final call and I think it's a great idea and I really want to run with this so I'll set up a meeting with Punk, Kevin, Dad and Paul."

"Excuse me, sorry, what?" Phoebe felt as though her heart stopped for a second, she would have to see _Punk_? Wasn't that somebody else's job? She didn't want to see him. She knew at some point she would have to come face to face with him, just not today. _He's going to ruin everything for me, _Phoebe thought bitterly. _Everything I've accomplished, everything I've worked for, down the drain in a matter of minutes because of some asshole._

She knew how Punk felt about her, it was no secret – and she also knew that he would do anything in his power to stop her from getting the job she wanted. She had concluded that after everything she had done for him, there was always Punk's hatred for her that stood in her way. Ideally she would've wanted to focus her mind on impressing, Vince McMahon and Paul Levesque, but no here she was fretting about some punk-ass douche who had made it his mission to make her crumble, and he did, had done. He was probably happily married by now, she hadn't heard anything about him or anyone else for that matter when she left 3 weeks ago, hopefully he was on his honeymoon, maybe him and Amy are still organising the wedding. _Maybe he was actually thinking about taking time off to start a family? _Who – gives – a – fuck? Phoebe needed to worry about tonight, and about getting this pitch right for the corporate clang, and maybe the tattooed son of a bitch.

"Phoebe?"

She struggled to swallow the saliva that was clogging her throat, "No ma'am that won't be a problem." Lucky for Phoebe lying was her forte.

"_Stephanie. _And good, because we've got a plane to catch for tonight's show."

Phoebe's eyes widened as she stepped foot inside the arena, it, her first Live Raw Show after almost a month from when she took off. She walked silently side by side with Stephanie, her very presence was dominant and intimidating, but Phoebe knew she was sweet and sincere. The pitch for the Punk/Triple H story line had gone so well and she thought about how good it would be to finally call herself a Creative writer; if all goes well with her interview with the second pitch. Phoebe had way more up her sleeve, months of no sleep and constant need for perfecting her portfolio would finally pay off, other ideas were just begging to be pitched to the rest of the creative team.

Phoebe and Stephanie discussed terms on the plane, assuming her husband and her father liked the idea of the pitch – she would work with the Raw roster alongside Stephanie herself however if need be she was allowed to travel with Smackdown. She had travelled with Dolph for so long that it was necessary for her to stay with him and Jake.

Just as she stood idling waiting around she took the moment to just soak it all in, the sights everything she had become so used to for months, everything she was accustomed to. There were technicians and production assistants trying to get everything ready for tonight. Her focus changed to the centre stage where the ring was being set up, she had seen it being done many times before back home including here at the WWE. Everybody looked so in sync as they were ready getting everything organised for the show, just so that it was _perfect_, and there were absolutely no glitches.

Superstars and Divas were already arriving into the arena and they were making their way to their locker rooms. Phoebe didn't expect anyone to remember her, with the exception of Punk, Alberto, Nick and Jake, but who else would remember the shy gawky assistant who would get scolded so much for merely breathing. Would John Cena remember her, Kofi, Zack? Phoebe tore off her sunglasses and replaced them with her normal, everyday glasses, as everyone walked passed her Phoebe went by unnoticed while they all greeted Stephanie like a long lost relative. It didn't bother her, she was here to work. Phoebe had friends.

"Do you have a plaster? Because I think I've fallen for you."

Phoebe swivelled round to see who had just spoke, "That line is awful I can feel like my ears starting to bleed, goddamn it Nick! Look at you! You're so tan! Tanner than usual, and you got your roots done, you know I like your dark roots."

Dolph opened his arms wide, smirking as Phoebe jumped onto Nick, her arms wrapping around his neck. He spun her around, before setting her feet back to the ground, "I missed you so much Phoebe, I was getting so lonely in that bus, Jake hardly travels with me now since he got drafted to Smackdown. God Phoebe I love -"

"Don't finish that sentence," Phoebe started, biting her lip nervously. She glanced around to make sure nobody was here to say this. No one had noticed the greeting between the two, and she'd rather it that way. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not looking for anything, I don't want anything right now. I love you too, _as a friend_."

Phoebe couldn't deny her lust filled feelings towards Dolph, he was everything she had craved for in a man –but she knew that he was still crushing on Nicole, his ex-girlfriend. She wasn't in the right mind-set to have a boyfriend and in all honesty, she didn't want to lose Nick as a friend, her only close friend she had at the WWE. She would have to bury these feelings, deep, deep, down – and stop whatever ever desire she had to start a relationship with him.

_Friendzoned, well done Ziggler._

Dolph nodded, a toothy smile still on his face, "Don't flatter yourself, okay? Now, do you want to hear some good news?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow at him,

"Good news?"

"I'm sort of seeing someone, nothing serious but we hooked up last week and I'm seeing her again this Wednesday and yeah that's it. I'm finally moving on."

Phoebe stitched a smile, it almost pained her face, "That's great Nick, I'm really happy for you – finally getting over Nikki, that's all you ever wanted, right?"

"Yeah it's great, I'm really happy. So, you heard about Punk?"

Just as Phoebe was about to reply eager to know what Dolph had to say, Stephanie approached the two of them, "Hello Dolph, how're you doing? I've asked my PA to gather everyone, if you want to set up in my office, feel free too."

"Nick, I'll speak to you later okay?" Phoebe pecked him on the cheek, and waved him goodbye – she could almost feel the bile rising in her throat. _She was going to see CM Punk._

Phil's plane landed and he silently grabbed his bag before exiting. Airports were always an interesting thing for a celebrity, fans bombarding him for autographs. If he wasn't tired as fuck he would be polite and sign them, of course it was a serious obligation and it came with the territory with being a WWE Superstar. But right now wasn't the time. His mind was working overtime and he would more often than not think about his wife. _The __**slut**_.

His sunglasses were placed over his eyes, his Chicago Cubs cap on his head and his H2O hoodie draped over his arms. _Back on the road again, he thought bitterly_, but he liked the distraction, wrestling was his number one priority and all the anger and aggression he had been feeling for weeks would be used as fuel for the shows. Show the fans what they're really missing. He shuddered as he stepped foot outside, the chill of Montana caused his teeth to chatter - so he didn't mind the chill of the winter air through the terminals he grew up in Chicago for god sake.

People moved silently past him, some pointing fingers, a few taking pictures. He ignored them and continued on his way through the airport. He didn't know why Kofi had called him or why he had 16 voice mails and missed calls from his colleagues at work. They all knew about what had happened at the wedding, it was no secret – he _just - couldn't - wait_ for people to ask him how he was, how he was dealing with all of this.

It had taken him weeks to finally decide it was time to return back to the WWE. Luckily Vince and John understood the situation, whether he liked it or not. He had been wrapping up on a set when he had gotten the frantic call from Stephanie McMahon. He had picked up the phone to hear the cool, calm and collected voice of the Billion-Dollar-Princess, she said she needed him urgently at the arena, however assured him that it was nothing bad it was just some things that needed finalising before the show started tonight. He hauled a taxi and was en route towards the arena.

Phoebe waited patiently for the meeting to start, she shook hands with Kevin and Triple H who insisted that she call him Paul, and _never _Sir or Mr Levesque. Vince was still delayed but the 3 exchanged idle conversation, she had never really spoken to Paul or met Kevin, only that one time during the interview however this time they got to know each other. Phoebe had to try and not mark out and tell them both about all the posters and action figures her and her brother used to collect. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass herself.

"Miss Walker, I don't think we've officially met, introductions aren't really necessary are they?" Vince McMahon had swaggered into the room, he wasn't lying, they hadn't met and Phoebe almost felt her legs bucked. Just like Stephanie, his very presence was intimidating, cold. Was he cold? She couldn't decide.

Reluctantly she decided on sticking her hand out, and he took it exchanging a firm handshake, Vince was impressed. She wasn't shaking and showed no sign of anxiousness – the mere action of offering a handshake had caught him off guard. _For someone so small, she sure is brave_.

"Looks like we're waiting for Mr Punk then."

"No need ya goober, I'm already here," Punk strode into the room with sheer confidence and smiled when he moved to stand next to Vince. Phoebe swivelled back round, turning so her back faced in – _she wasn't ready, she didn't want to see him, she knew how this was going to all play out, he was going to ruin this for her._

"Punk." Vince bit back a retort, he did not appreciate being called a "goober." Paul, Kevin and Stephanie looked at Punk as though he had grown a second head, no one talked to Vince like that, no one even called him Vince to his _face. _The tension between the two men was high but Vince would never lose the straight edge superstar. He was already treading on eggshells, anything Vince said could potentially send him flying back to Chicago and never looking back. He had become Punk's doormat and it killed him – Phoebe noticed and already felt her blood beginning to boil.

"So, what's all the about?" Punk asked, the scraping of the chair dragging against the floor echoed within the room..

"Well, Punk, Kevin, Paul, Dad we are thinking of taking a new direction with things in terms of the story line, I was already won over by the pitch but since you 4 weren't in Connecticut this morning I asked Miss Walker to pitch the idea again. I believe in this storyline and I was hoping you guys would love it as much as I do." Phoebe didn't look at Punk as he drew out a sarcastic sigh. He could tell where this was going and he knew it was just going to be some dumb plot brewed by the generic writers, if you can even call them writers. Punk knew he had some creative control, he was the WWE Champion for fuck's sake – what was all this about

"Punk, just listen" Paul's voice was stern and Vince sighed.

"Phoebe, if you'd like to start."

"Sure, erm thank you for all being here, I'm glad you all took time out of your busy schedule to listen to my idea" Phoebe spoke, her voice cracking first and gradually growing more confident and amplifying as she carried on.

Punk's eyes almost bugged out of his head at the sight of Phoebe – _what the fuck was she doing here_? Now that he thought about it. He hadn't heard from her for a month. _What was she doing here? What had happened since he had been away._ His old assistant dressed in tight jeans and a printed tee, throwing on a blazer for a formal look. He peered down to see that she wasn't wearing heels. _No wonder she looks smaller than I remembered. Last time I saw her she was strutting in pain as her feet nestled in a pair of Louboutins_. Phil eyed Phoebe not listening to a word she was saying.

A pang of guilt began poking him, prodding, strangling, stabbing at his insides – _she had warned him about Amy. _That still didn't understand what she was doing here. _Why isn't she looking at me?_ _I wonder if she knows about what happened._

_She probably does, _he thought bitterly. When this pitch was over he had no doubt that she was going to waltz over here and scream "I told you so" in his face. She had every right to, he couldn't deny that, he just wasn't going to let her. _She looks pretty hot, why haven't I noticed this before._

Punk watched as Phoebe's glasses slid to the end of nose and she would hastily push them back up again. He had so many questions, was this some kind of a joke. Was Phoebe,_ now a WWE Creative Writer? Well, what do you know, dream __**do**__come true!_

Her mouth finally closed shut and she gave everyone time to sink in everything she had just said taking a step back from the table, she let the 4 of them discuss "It's great right, Punk isn't it great you haven't said a single word – you liked the storyline?"

_I didn't hear any of it so I wouldn't of known, well it came from Phoebe so it was probably shit_. _Harsh, don't be a dick Phil – she warned you about Amy and what did you do, Punk? _ _Why should I feel sorry for her, just because I didn't believe her, Amy was my fiancé I loved her and I was supposed to believe her. I hadn't even known Phoebe a month and here she was making accusations about his fiancé. _

The constant battle within his mind was driving him insane, he couldn't even look at Phoebe and bo doubt she couldn't even look at him. He was _not _going to apologise. He was _not _going to let her feel sorry for him_._

_She cried in front of you, you made her cry, remember Punk? You said she was worthless, useless and that she never would become a WWE creative writer? Now here she was getting high praise off the corporate Brady Bunch. What does she expect me to do, give her a medal? Apologise? _

Punk rolled her eyes, waving his hand dismissively, "It's good, whatever – let's just get this show over with, alright?" He glanced at Phoebe and felt his heart shatter, she was shuddering and her bottom lip was trembling, she had inched her way towards the door, as far away from him as possible. "Erm great, Paul, Dad, Kevin – sound good?" Stephanie turned her attention towards the other 3, Punk's gaze still locked on Phoebe's.

"I _love _it!" Vince almost jumped up and down, he really did love the idea it was one of the best he had heard in months, ever since the obvious one that Punk was in 2 months ago at Summerslam and Money In The Bank.

Phoebe took a moment to register what Vince McMahon had just said to her, "Do you mean that sir?"

"Vince, please. Yes, you, Punk and Paul should stay here and figure out what's happening tonight. _Do not_ disappoint me tonight, I am _very_ impressed." The 4 others minds were blown, _no one _ was allowed to call him Vince, _nobody_. Yet Phoebe had gotten the permission on their first interaction, and to get the _very_ impressed was just the cherry on top. Phoebe didn't know if this was a big deal or not, but the others did, as they stared at Vince McMahon in shock.

"Of course, Vince," Phoebe mumbled, her eyes widening in shock, she watched Vince and Kevin walk out, Stephanie winking at Phoebe, she couldn't hide the grin on her face, she suddenly felt utterly ridiculous.

"Looks like you got the creative job, I gotta tell ya, Stephanie had a lot of faith in you. She really wanted to hire you, well done, looks like Daddy likes you too." Phoebe blushed and decided on clearing away everything she had laid out for the pitch. "Listen, I'll be right back, I gotta talk to Steph for a second, but you and Punk get started."

Despite Phoebe's protests, Paul had already left the room – she needed to exit the room as fast as she could, she didn't think she could be in this room alone with Punk for longer than 10 seconds. As she was headed for the door she felt a hand grip her arm, firm but it didn't hurt. She struggled to escape from his grasp and reluctantly Punk let go, her back was still turned towards him but she felt his eyes on her.

"Look who passed with flying colours," Punk smirked in her ear, sending shudders down Phoebe's spine. _What was he doing?_ _Why was he doing this?_

Phoebe stormed off, unable to comprehend what had just happened. She was glad that he hadn't fucked up the pitch for her she was so nervous and knew he could've done anything to destroy any chance of her advancing in her career. He watched her as she got further and further away from him, and still wondered whether she knew about the wedding, about what happened with him and Amy.

At least now he had a new distraction.


	14. Chapter 14

**Little shorter than usual and pretty rushed I was getting bored and wanted to post a new chapter, apologies, hope you guys like it, love everybody whos been following and favourited my story, thank you for reading and thank you for the reviews, much appreciated! :3**

_"I, I have something to tell you…There's no easy way to say this – "_

_"Just spit it out Phoebe, for fucks sake!" _

_"Amy's cheating on you."_

_Punk's fists clenched in anger, silence echoed within the four walls of the compact room – Punk's blood boiling to maximum point. This bitch just didn't know when to quit. He hates her, hates everything about her._

_"You know what I think?" _

_"I think you like me. I think you love me, and you're jealous of Amy. You're jealous of all the love I have for her, the respect I have for that woman. Remember this Phoebe, you're nothing but an assistant. I never wanted you, and WWE never wanted you – they hired you just to make you do shit for me, and even then, you were, useless. WWE don't even want you, you'll never become part of a Creative Member team, you haven't got a single creative bone in your body, you wouldn't know what creative was even if it punched you in the face. You're a nobody, you're an unattractive bitch, no one will ever like you, no one will ever love you, they won't even look twice at you because you're a fucking creep that can't keep her big nose out of anyone's business. I know you also have a thing for Dolph, like he'd ever want someone like you. I am not your boss anymore and you are not my employee, I never wanted you and nor will I ever want you , so do everyone a favour, and get – the – fuck – out."_

_"Punk, I'm telling you the truth, I saw her –"_

_"STOP! Stop with the weak ass lies, they're pathetic, you're pathetic. I thought after 2 months, you had proved me wrong, you weren't some freak that loved me or whatever but I was wrong, You're a sad, lonely girl." _

Punk lay awake in his bed, the bus was en route to the next city. He had no luck finding Phoebe after he had cut his promo with Triple H, he asked every single person he passed and still no sign of her. _What would I have even said to her? _Punk thought, _what was there left to say? _The memory he had just recalled stung him, what had gotten into him at that time? What had gotten into him the entire time he had known Phoebe? The more he tried not thinking about his little ex-assistant, he couldn't help think about her even more. The way she would react, not retorting back. Just going about her daily job, assisting this Punk ass kid that hated her guts. She was so _submissive_ and just took his shit – _why?_

They had spent so many moments together alone with each other, each and every time he hated the thought of her being around him, it had knocked him sick. Punk tried denying the fact that he never did anything wrong; he simply did not like her and she annoyed him, if it was anybody else he would've acted the exact same.

_What am I saying?! _ _You made her work life living hell! _Punk didn't want to admit that he was in the wrong, it all came down to ego, deep down somewhere he knew it was the right thing to do, to man up and face the guilt that was being washed over him. Apologising was an even harder task for him, Punk never apologised to anyone, he couldn't it just never came naturally to him.

Punk reached over to his bedside table grabbing the latest Tales of the Batman issue, he had a lot of catching up to do and anything to erase his mind about Phoebe would help. He flipped open the first page, revealing the contents in fresh mint condition – he began reading, reading the words that were on the page, which eventually turned into just flicking through the comic book without so much as a glance at each page. The words were spoken aloud from his lips yet none of them stuck in his mind, the pictures just blurs of beautiful art that didn't get enough attention from Punk. They were just words that didn't mean anything, _much like every insult he had fired at Phoebe. _Punk tossed the book at the door not realising that at the same time he had thrown the book, Kofi had opened the door. The book bounced off his chest and flopped down onto the floor.

Kofi bent down to pick it up, observing it before tossing it back to Punk, "That bad, huh?"

"I didn't mean, I didn't know you were going to come in. Whatever happened to knocking?"

"I knew you weren't asleep I heard you were awake, reading. You left pretty quickly from after that promo, everything alright?" Kofi perched himself at the end of Punk's bed.

"Don't get too comfortable. I was just gonna go to bed."

Kofi scoffed at Punk, "That's not gonna work on me dude, I know for a fact that you never sleep, you barely got 2 hours in yesterday. What's troubling you, buddy?"

"Kofi for fucks sake man, nothing is the matter. You know how it is with the suits, the meeting before the show was just – "

"You saw Phoebe."

"Who?" Punk spoke abruptly, defensively, _Kofi doesn't know anything_.

"Don't play dumb. She doesn't know man she's clueless, she still thinks you're with Amy, she seemed pretty angry after the meeting, something about that "_fucking bastard,_ _who does he think he is"_ and she came and found Dolph, I was with him so, look who doesn't read Bleacher Report."

"I still don't know who you're talking about man." Punk went back to his comic book, trying to focus on something other than Phoebe.

"Whatever you say man, by the way, your comic's upside down."

Kofi left, shutting the door behind him. Punk was alone again, stewing on his own, not letting his mind rest, _looks like_ _another sleepless night for me._

_Look who passed with flying colours?! The fucking nerve! _

Phoebe didn't know where her legs were going taking her but she knew anywhere would be better than near Punk. She didn't need to witness a weeks' worth of screenplay writing torn to shreds – on one occasion she remembered a poor writer actually breaking down sobbing as Punk screamed, destroying the script in the process.

_Why did I ever return,_ Phoebe thought miserably to herself, _oh that's right, because you had this silly dream about becoming a WWE Creative writer._

Phoebe tried finding Stephanie after the show ended, she could've sworn that Steph had asked her to wait by catering for her but she was nowhere to be found. She needed to get a flight back to Connecticut, there was no way she would stay here where Punk would be within a 5 mile radius. She had suffered enough and now Phoebe was here to write, just write.

Deciding that Stephanie had left without her, she made her way outside trying to see if she could find a rental car, luckily she ran into Nick as he too was making his way out to the next city.

"Hey look at you Miss Hot Shot Creative Writer."

"Hey, look at you – the … show .. off?" Phoebe stammered, Dolph grinning pearl whites.

"Nick, I was wondering … "

"If you could get a ride, sure thing. You don't need to ask." Phoebe slipped her arm, linking there two arms in a, warm embrace as a thank you, Dolph pressed his lips to her temple, enjoying the embrace.

"So, what did Stephanie want, you looked like you were in a bit of a hurry when she came over, everything alright?" The two had reached their bus, Jake had already gotten in and was lounging about in his bunk.

"We had a meeting, discussing the new storyline involving Stephanie, Paul, Kevin and Punk."

"Poor guy," Jake mumbled to himself, while Phoebe turned to Nick with a raised eyebrow curious as to what Jake meant.

"You really don't know do you?" Dolph cleared his throat, turning his back to Phoebe. "Everybody knows about Amy cheating on Punk, everyone all found out at the wedding, I obviously wasn't invited I mean, I didn't want to go. But it's all over Youtube, TMZ, Bleacher Report. I'm surprised that you haven't heard about it to be honest." Dolph handed Phoebe his smart phone, and on it was a small clip that was taken at Punk's wedding. She had barely watched 10 seconds and felt slightly sick in her stomach. _She hated _Punk with a passion, but she knew the didn't deserve _this_. This was … inhumane. She couldn't bear to think what Punk had gone through, now that she thought about it Punk did look rather slimmer and paler than usual.

_It still doesn't change anything, he was a dick, an asshole, don't go soft just because he learnt the hard way, it's his own goddamn fault_.

Phoebe handed the phone back to Nick too shocked for words, she sat down and she let her mind wander, Nick's and Jake's words simply hadn't reached her, all noise had become fuzzy. _How was he coping? He must feel so alone right now. Had he though about me since he found out that I was telling the truth? Why was he still acting like an arrogant arse after everything? What is he feeling right at this moment? Heartbroken? Lost ?Scared? Vulnerable? Alone?_

Phoebe didn't want to say she cared, she just knew exactly what it felt like to be in his shoes, sure Punk was a strong person and he always never lost face and for someone so head strong, it was almost impossible to see a man like him break down. He was now married to Amy, and there was nothing Phoebe could to about it, Punk had to learn the hard way and that wasn't her fault, she just pitied him, felt sorry for him; because he was feeling exactly the way he had made her feel.

Lost. Scared Vulnerable. Alone. Heartbroken.

Phoebe had fallen asleep in Nick's bunk, him arm draped over her torso. The warmth felt familiar and made her feel good – Jake was nowhere to be found and they had already reached there next destination. She slowly removed his tanned arm from her and slipped on a pair of heels. She gave Nick a peck on the forehead and decided to find Stephanie – hopefully after the show she would be able to head back to Connecticut, she forgot how tiring it was travelling on the road for so long. _Maybe I was just out of practise, I loved travelling with Nick_. Punk never let Phoebe travel with him, ever since he had gotten the new terms to his contract meaning new bus ect, she was never aloud, it was always sleeping on airport floors, catching flights, sleeping in rental cars, her back in constant pain and feeling fatigue every single day. Maybe it was for the better, travelling with him would've meant twice the amount of torturing, harassing and constant need to throw insults at her.

She stepped foot inside the arena, like yesterday production assistants, lighting and camera crew were setting up; today was not a great day to wear heels however she picked up her legs and decided to jog around the arena, hoping to find her. She had left Stephanie several missed calls and nothing. It was like she had disappeared off the face of the earth.  
Eventually she began to slow down, she looked pretty frazzled and she hadn't even applied make up on, never in her life would she walk anywhere without applying make-up, until now.

"Hey pretty lady, long time now see," Phoebe didn't know who said that, and she didn't even think it was directed towards her, until she felt a hand grip her arm. Swivelling around she turned to see who spoke.

Super Cena. "Hey, yeah, long time no speak."

"Where've you been, we thought you left, or I don't know, you got fired."

"Creative writer now," Phoebe held up her badge to John, who in time wolf whistled when she had shown him. "You made it huh? Dind't think you'd last you know, but look at you now, I'm impressed." Phoebe blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You're not the only person who thought that, I'm still surprised you even remember me you know, we should have coffee sometime. Listen, I'm in a bit of a hurry, but I'll come find you later okay?" They exchanged a quick hug and Phoebe scurried off, John was genuinely surprised at how much Phoebe had progressed in her career in such short time.

"Where is she?" Phoebe mumbled to herself, she had eventually reached catering, she doubted that Stephanie would be here, she still looked never the less. It was practically empty, until she saw a figure in the corner of the room, dressed in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt. Hair slick back, lip ring and dark, red circles under his eyes, it was Punk.

Phoebe was about to turn back around until she heard Punk's voice, "What are _you_ doing here in catering? If I were you, I'd be watching what I eat, you're looking a little, _round_. Then again, you have no hope really, do you?"

Phoebe swallowed back any retort she felt like firing back at Punk, it wasn't worth it, he was hurting and she wasn't going to sink down to his level.

"Have you seen Stephanie?" Phoebe asked, quietly as a mouse. Punk however snickered, getting up so he was now closer to her.

"No I have not, why, lost your babysitter?" Need little Stephanie to hold your hand?" Punk stood 2 feet away from her, sneering, while Phoebe stared at her feet.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

_Say it Phoebe, just say it, he's not going to punch you_. "Being an asshole."

"Babe, you knew I was an asshole from the moment you saw me on television, what you get on TV is what you get in real life. That is who I am."

Phoebe couldn't help but roll her eyes, she had heard the same, ordinary spiel for days, weeks and months, that line was getting really old.

"I don't get it Punk, I really don't. I don't understand what I ever did to deserve this, I never did anything bad to you, if anything I was great to you, I was a brilliant employee. I never deserved anything you ever said to me, it was disgusting and vile and, I'm just so sick of you walking all over me like I'm a fucking doormat. Don't be bitter just because the love of your life left you for some other man. I truly am sorry for what happened at that pathetic excuse you had for a wedding, I really am. "

"You know, when I found out that Amy was cheating on you, I felt really bad for you Punk, you didn't deserve anything, I thought 'Wow, Amy Dumas has bagged himself a great guy, yet she's shagging some random motherfucker behind your back. I was so disgusted and felt so sorry for you. But, I've now come to realise, that maybe Amy did the right thing. Because you really are a bitter, loveless, disrespectful loner who doesn't deserve the love for anybody, you're an unlovable monster. She cheated on you because you're a fucking bastard who doesn't give a crap about anybody but himself. I cared for you, I admired you so goddamn much. You're hopeless now. Good luck getting your divorce, you son of a bitch."


	15. Chapter 15

**you guys are so great, i love how much you love the story oh god :)))))))))) so chapters might come pretty slow from now on, i start college so guess who's a busy bee, me. Here's chapter 15, enjoy :)**

Phoebe walked out of catering with her head held high not giving a fuck about anything. She didn't care if Punk filed a complaint against her, she didn't even care if Punk got her fired. The look on his face was priceless, her outburst had left him totally dumbfounded. He just _stood_ there, taking it all in. Just like she had done a couple months back. Everything she had said was true, it was incredibly harsh and although Phoebe thought that her speech was completely justified yet for some strange reason she wasn't feeling 100% great, there was no sense of liberation. If anything she felt somewhat guilty and she had no idea why.

There was something that was just prodding her in the back of her mind, she just didn't know what. Was it the look on Punk's face? Was it because of the way he didn't retort back, had nothing left to say? Was it because … she brought Amy up? Was that _uncalled _for? Was Phoebe still frustrated, irritated because Punk hadn't even apologised, Phoebe had gotten the impression that Punk thought he had nothing to apologise _for_, maybe she had given him something to think about. She just didn't know.

Punk had remained eerily quiet throughout the entire day, he had absolutely no intention of going to sleep, he couldn't even if he wanted to. For some reason Punk felt like he had crossed some arbitrary line. He was hungry but couldn't eat, he was tired but he couldn't sleep, he was upset, angry, agitated, hurt, torn, he wanted to cry. Lock himself in his bedroom and just wail. He was man enough to admit it, he just couldn't do it. He just let his mind replay the words that Phoebe had said to him back in catering; he had absolutely no control over it. He had no idea why it had played so much on him, on his feelings – people had hurled abuse at him all the time, physical and verbal, Phoebe's words had stung him so much. She was right. She was fucking right about everything..

Everyone had known about Phoebe's claims relating to Amy cheating on Punk, no one had believed her, no one he knew of anyway. His first week had gone better than he expected, but he still knew that people spoke in hushed tones. Everyone in the locker room was there at his wedding, they saw the video. They knew that Phoebe was right. Luckily for Punk, no one had brought up the subject of his wedding and anything relating to Phoebe; Punk was already torturing himself. He just knew that they knew.

The Internet dirt sheets were already running rampant with what had happened, not that Punk took notice of them as such, he just knew the video was up on Youtube, TMZ, it had gone viral. Of course Phoebe knew about it, everyone knew about it. It hadn't taken long for the suits to find out what had happened at his wedding, it had meant even more publicity for the WWE, more money for the corporate sharks, Punk thought bitterly. Vince had pulled Punk behind closed doors immediately and asked if this was going to affect his performance. _Of course, _Punk thought, it was always about the money. _Was this guy going to make me money? Will this guy make me millions?_ Punk assured Vinnie that wasn't going to be the case, he had no intention of quitting now, he was now is better shape, the best shapes he's ever been in. Years of hard work was not going down the drain because of his _wife_. He had hired a lawyer and gotten the legal documents sorted, ten thousand dollars was being taken out of his bank account, Punk couldn't help that, he just needed Amy out of his life for good. This was his punishment. Divorced at 32 was not what had bothered Punk the most. His head was still spinning with emotion. Guilt continued to consume him, devour him.

Nick and Phoebe had arrived at the hotel, there were 2 house shows this week and Phoebe decided to check them out with Nick, he was very excited for her to meet his new friend, Amy Schumer. The two had gotten a room together with separate beds. Phoebe still felt something for Nick, she didn't know what. The way he would smile at her, protect her, comfort her. Had he liked her too? Was this ever skinny love? Phoebe was quiet and sad and Nick didn't understand why. It was strange to see her so quiet, she hadn't spoken a word since this morning, even after he had found her without her leaving so much as a note.

"You hungry? What you in the mood for? Chinese? Indian? Pizza?"

"Whatever you want," she mumbled back.

"We don't have to eat anything, we'll just starve and wait for people to find our carcasses in this room." Phoebe heaved a sigh, finally locking eyes with Nick. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Phoebe to say something, anything.

"I'm in the mood for chipolte."

"Oh no." Nick knew Phoebe only ate chipolte when she was upset, really upset, she would devour plate full of chipolte with a mountain of nacho's; something happened with Punk. It was always because of Punk.

"What happened? What did he do?"

"He didn't do anything Nick, it was me. I lashed out at him."

"And?"

"I was _mean_. I don't do mean, like I was horrible, I can't believe I said those things. I tried to make him feel the way he made me feel you know, insecure. Thought it would be like a taste of his own medicine, and I just feel worse. You should've seen his face Nick, I really struck a nerve. I feel horrible. I thought it would make me feel better, but I don't. He's just always there, he's always around lurking and trying to make some snidy remark about me and my life, like I'm so perfect. Just knowing he's around, makes me feel miserable, knowing he can get to me at any time, and almost 100% of the time, he'll make me hate myself. I thought me doing that to him would help, but it didn't. I just, _hate _him so much."

Nick understood, he understood who she was and why she felt so bad; Punk had practically taken over her life. He didn't want to tell her but he could see clearly what was going on here, she cared about him. It was obvious. She didn't want to admit it but he could see it already. He just didn't understand why. After all this time, after everything he did to her all the pain he had caused, threatening to give up on her dream, he could see Phoebe feeling something towards him, that complete asshole. Something had ignited in Nick when he had concluded this, anger, fury, frustration, he was the reason that no one had attempted to communicate with her. Punk had attempted to ruin her career, he had attempted to ruin her life.

He excused himself and had decided to get some late night food but dinner was the last thing on her mind and she had only picked at it. Tonight just wasn't her night, he figured she just needed to sleep on it and decided to give her some space. He tidied up, and sat by her until she fell asleep, he gathered all of the food wrappings and headed out to dispose them, checking up on Amy in the meantime. On the way back, he had found himself in the hallway face to face with CM Punk. The two men had never been fans of each other, Punk knew briefly of his and Phoebe's relationship, whereas the entire WWE locker room knew how Punk felt about Phoebe, Dolph had never had a bone to pick with Punk, he knew the Champion was already going through a rough time with the publicity and the annulment. Punk's harsh and unnecessary treatment of Phoebe had changed all that. Dolph had been angry at Punk for a long time but today had been the last straw, pushing him over the edge.

"You know, you're a fucking asshole, a real prick you know that?" Dolph sneered as he walked closer to Punk, who looked pale, tired, and was in agony.

The normal reaction would be Punk telling Dolph to fuck off, maybe push him, punch him in the face and then feel quite satisfied with himself, truth was that he was full of pride. He was always ready to retort with a smart comment and if provoked, a fist connecting with somebody's jaw. Everyone knew, but something was different about him tonight. He was quiet and unsure of himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. _Phoebe must've really hit him hard_, Dolph grinned internally.

"Don't fucking remind me, I'm a piece of shit, I get it," he muttered attempting to escape.

"I never said anything because Phoebe was always scared, she was scared about how you'd react, about hurting your feelings, but what the fuck were you thinking? This was her first job, her dream job. She respected and admired you. You let her down Punk. She pities you, and that's why she hates you. I just don't get it, I get that you didn't believe her about Amy, but before that, I don't fucking get it."

Punk had no answer.

"I…I don't know. I don't know what I was doing, or thinking. She was an easy target and things got out of hand. I don't know what happened, I'm, I'm .. _sorry_."

"You're _sorry? Fucking sorry! _And what do you mean, you don't know what happened. You made her miserable, she hated coming to work everyday, she was worried that one day, you'd go too far. She was so scared of you. This is all your fault. You did this to her. You humiliated her, she had no friends apart from me because of you. She barely goes out anymore, she has been lying to her parents because of you. You just didn't know when to stop, did you? You just couldn't leave her alone. You had to keep on pushing and pushing and pushing, torturing her, making her feel shit about herself. You bullied her Punk, bullied! Yet you sit there, participating in Be A Star, are you fucking kidding? Seriously, man. What the fuck is wrong with you? You are one sick fuck, you know once I respected you, you were my friend once. Don't think so anymore."

Nick was infuriated, blue eyes darkened with rage, his voice bitter, and full of rage, his fists balled up and ready for combat. And Punk? The loud mouthed, snotty, dirty Punk kid who used to fight on the streets and get arrested was now a broken, weak little man.

"Look man, I know what I did was wrong" he looked Phil in the eye. "You're not gonna get a fight out of me, I know I fucked up, you don't need to fucking remind me."

"Wrong. Yeah that's one way of putting it you asshole. There's not point fighting you, tell me did you get your annulment from Amy yet? Is Vince still on your ass hoping this will all go away, because trust me, this isn't , don't act like everything's going to be okay. Because it isn't, not for her, it never will be."

Punk knew it. Nick was pissed off , so was Phoebe and so was he. He was so angry at himself he just needed to know where Phoebe was? And was she okay?

"Is Phoebe…"

"Don't Punk. Don't you fucking say her name. You've done enough damage, Punk. Just leave her alone. She never told me anything, I was the only person she confided in and she made me not tell anyone about this. She thought she could handle it on her own and I thought you would grow a pair but this is got way out of hand. You went a step to far every time and I'm telling you now, if you ever bother her again, I – will – destroy – you. I mean it Punk, you'll be fucking dead."

With that, he stormed off, leaving a quiet Punk alone in the hallway. Twice in one day he had gotten a violent, verbal attack from Phoebe and Dolph._ Looks like it's time for an apology._

Having met Amy with Nick the next day Phoebe was suddenly sick of feeling sorry for herself, she told Nick she was going to stay in Connecticut for a while, hopefully it will do her some good with how she was feeling prior to the situation with Punk. She had spent a good three weeks there, checking out the town, working, relaxing. She had made new friends at the headquarters, creative writers were noticing her talent and spark and everything seemed to be flowing well nicely. Her family thought she was still on the road and she preferred it that way until, she'd been given the best opportunity anyone could have possible given her. She was finally _happy_, finally forgetting.

The experience with Punk and the WWE had left a bad memory with her, but she had a passion for writing and a passion for the WWE. Moving back to Connecticut didn't stop her from watching the show every Monday. She would watch the show unravel each storyline that had been thought through and was nailed down to a T, Punk feuding with Kevin Nash, Cena being booed even though he was the face to Del Rio's heel. Punk's feud with Triple H was expanding and was getting more intense as each week passed by. She inwardly groaned. She still couldn't escape the Straight-Edge Superstar, as if he wasn't already a nuisance in her life she was now en route to a scheduled meeting with him and the creative writers, and she wasn't taking it very well. She was feeling nauseous for some strange reason, she felt like she needed to prepare for something and not just the meeting. She had luckily escaped him for almost 2 months and ever since the outburst she had made in front of him, she had a lucky escape. Who knows what he could've done to her?

Pushing open the glass doors of the WWE Headquarters, she waited by the elevator doors, headphones blaring Jon Bon Jovi, wailing over booming electric guitars the lyrics to "Dead or Alive. The doors opened and Phoebe stepped inside, pushing the button for the 13th floor. The elevator arrived and she stepped out, her palms sweating slightly and her breathing slightly hitched. _Not again_, she begged. _Why do I have to see him? Why couldn't it have been someone else?_ The floor was surprisingly loud, Stephanie wasn't here yet. She walked briskly, hearing her heels clacking against the floor, she had reached the room and noticed it was empty. _Great_. _What was she supposed to do now, twiddle her thumbs?_ She paced the room a couple of times, picked a chair to sit in, ran over her notes as to what was exactly happening this Sunday at Night of Champions. Phoebe heard that there were plans for a DVD release on Punk's story, how he got into wrestling, what had happened, how he got to the top, everything there was to know about Punk. She didn't think too much of it to be honest. She certainly wasn't interested in his story.

"Hello?" Phoebe recognised the voice, and turned around anyway, their eyes locked but Phoebe tore her gaze within a second. "So you are alive."

Phoebe chose to ignore him.

The gruff deep voice made Phoebe quiver, her knees buck, "I thought you quit."

"Now why would you think that? Because of you? Don't flatter yourself."

"No, I just wanted to know how you were, I was, I was worried about – "

Phoebe rolled her eyes, and made no attempt of hiding it, "I don't even care, let's just get this meeting over with so you can go back to wrestling and I can go back to writing your story lines okay?" Phoebe wasn't stupid. She knew Punk too well, he didn't care about anyone or anything, "What do you want, Punk?"

"Well I want to apolo – "

"Right, let's get this meeting started shall we," _gize. _Stephanie spoke, beaming as she walked in with her husband and the rest of the creative team.

Phoebe mumbled, "Gladly."


	16. Chapter 16

**long wait, sorry guys, hope this doesn't disappoint :) LOVE THE REVIEWS AND ALL YOU FOLLOWERS AND FAVOURITERS.**

Night of Champions had finally rolled on, Phoebe had noticed how everyone in the locker room was on the edge of their seats for the pay-per-view. She and the creative team had been working for weeks on the drafts, careful directions of what was going to happen and who was going to win, but she wasn't born yesterday. To them, it was just a piece of paper with words on – the superstars were going to keep selling and do what they do best until the victor was scheduled to win. The last two pay-per-views had been out of control and this was Phoebe's first time officially working on one – so far, everything was going to plan. But she knew that everyone was not happy, she had heard rumours around the locker room that because of _her _some of the matches were fixed, due to favouritism, for example, Kofi and Evan's win over Miz and R-Truth, Dolph's win during the fatal four way and Triple H's win over Punk. Not to mention Beth was losing in her home town.

She had very little say in who was to win during each match, her main focus was Punk's storyline, but to her surprise he hadn't uttered a word. She knew he was unhappy, nevertheless she had plans for him. She was keeping things professional, she had reason not to and she had every intention to seek revenge, but chose not to. He would soon get his championship match and soon get a storyline that would have audiences wanting more. Regardless, she hated how unhappy everyone was, it upset her even more that they thought it was her fault. She hadn't uttered a word to anyone backstage, she had decided to keep her distance from Nick, he had gotten awfully smitten with Amy and had seen them together backstage. Phoebe wasn't looking for a relationship per se but she couldn't help the crush developing inside of her, similarly to when she was Punk's assistant.

Phoebe's place was now in the gorilla area, running through any final demands from the creative team and running through any changes or just simply reminding them what was going to happen. It amazed her to see the wrestlers so confident and poised, not a single shaken body in the place, they were pumped and ready to get out there. The energy was ecstatic, only hours ago had she sat beside the ring watching fans flock into the arena, now it was packed and they were chanting, booing, screaming names. The matches tonight had gone smoothly, she only hoped that the last match, Triple H vs Punk would go just as smoothly as the others.

"How're you feeling Paul? You ready?" Paul's large frame appeared behind Phoebe's, she knew when he was around, it had was a kind of instinct that she had become accustomed to now. She turned around to see him in his trunks, game face on. It was nothing like she had ever seen before, sure she had seen him wrestle on TV and even live in an arena, but seeing him stand there she knew he was the real deal. Every dollar the fans had spent to see Night of Champions live was not going to waste and he was going to make sure of it.

"Don't know about you but I'm ready to wrestle," Paul's voice was low and husky, no sense of friendliness, _Stephanie is one lucky bitch._

"Have fun out there," Phoebe motioned the music technicians to hit Triple H's music, The Game started to play blasting throughout the entire arena, as expected there were more boo's than there were cheers, Paul did play the heel very well. Phoebe hated to admit it, but she knew someone who could play it even better.

Punk arrived standing behind Phoebe just like Paul had just done, bouncing on the balls of his feet, Phoebe had seen this countless amount of times, it always fascinated her – she just couldn't wait to get away from him.

"Didn't think you'd be around here, I was wondering where you were," Punk spoke, his tone surprised Phoebe. It wasn't steady or confident like she remembered, something to do with him losing tonight perhaps.

"Why would _you_ be wondering that?" Phoebe meant the question to be rhetorical but somehow Punk managed to answer.

"I've been meaning to tell you something Phoebe, for a while and – "

"Guys, cue Punk's music," Phoebe called out not wanting to hear any bullshit Punk was about to spew. Triple H's cut and _Cult of Personality _hit before Punk could get a word in, Punk closed his mouth disappointed but his face quickly rearranged back to his game face, scowling and ready to fight. The straight edge superstar turned his back away from the petite woman and headed out to the cheers of the crowd, the Punk chants were deafening but backstage everything was quiet. Punk's match was always a match to watch silently, awe struck and admiration on everyone's face. Phoebe couldn't help but roll her eyes, _he's a great wrestler, but goddamn is he a fucking asshole. _

CM Punk and Triple H had been booked for a clean win for Triple H, and the team of Miz and R-Truth, The Awesome Truth were also set to attack them during the match. What no one in the locker room knew, apart from Punk, Triple H, Stephanie and the Creative Team was that Kevin Nash was making his way through the crowd to attack the two wrestlers. As Punk and Paul Levesque made their way backstage, the entire locker room of the Superstars and Divas awaited them in the backstage area.

"Holy shit, we weren't expecting that!" Matt spoke as he sprinted behind Punk, having lost his spirits were still pretty high, he still had that buzz and could probably still do with wrestling for another 15 minutes until he was worn out.

"Thank the new addition to the WWE Creative Team, Phoebe! She's got loads more in store for you guys. Great job everybody, this pay-per-view was fantastic, and I'll see you tomorrow bright and early for Raw tomorrow," Stephanie smiled as she stood proudly next to her husband.

"As anyone actually seen Phoebe?"

Phoebe finished loading her suitcase into the trunk of the rental car, the pay-per-view was over and she was knackered. Tomorrow was going to be the start of yet another gruelling travel week, Monday Night Raw's were always exceptional after the PPV'S and ever better than them, in her opinion. However, tomorrow's Raw was taking place on the other side of the country, heading west – she had no luck finding plane tickets having only found out tonight where Raw was taking place, so Phoebe decided on starting her 15 hour drive now, alone. Sighing after everything was neatly packed away, she closed the lid of the boot and gasped when the open space revealed CM Punk standing there.

"Fucking hell!" Phoebe rolled her eyes and shook her head.

He didn't say anything. She looked around and noted that there was no one else standing in the dark parking lot except for the two of them. A chill ran through her body as she felt fear consume her.

"Phoebe."

"What do you want, Punk? Why are you here? Because let me tell you something, I don't have time for this and I'm really not in the mood for your bullshit."

"No," he said quietly. "I just want to talk to you."

"Dammnit," she shot back.

"Please."

"I don't have anything to say to you," she turned to walk away but stopped when a firm hand placed a grip on her much smaller arm.

He held her in place until he walked in front of her, blocking her path. He towered over her, his green eyes boring a hole right through her as Phoebe tried to keep her calm.

"Just for a minute, please Phoebe."

"Get – your - hands – off - me," she spoke through gritted teeth.

Punk noticed that this wasn't the same Phoebe he had met months ago, she had become defiant, she was standing up for herself, but there was something deeper Punk saw as he studied her. He saw fear. She was afraid of him and it made him feel sick, his stomach turning as he saw the look of terror in her eyes. Instantly he flinched.

"Sorry, look…I didn't mean to scare you. I just…I just need to talk to you, I promise you it won't take long."

She gave him a icy glare. His face looked worried, embarrassed, he wasn't smirking, sneering or hurling insults at her. He looked like a different CM Punk altogether but Phoebe wasn't stupid. She just needed to get away from him.

She still held her heavy stare as his shoulders sagged miserably, "What more do you want Punk? What more can you do to hurt me?"

"Nothing! I don't want to hurt you Phoebe, this is what I'm trying to say. I really fucked up. The wedding, the way I treated you, It really opened my eyes, godamnit I haven't slept or eaten properly in weeks, I - ."

"You're upset because of what happened with Amy, this wouldn't be happening if Amy hadn't cheated on you. You couldn't realise on your own what you did was wrong, that's really fucked up, you know that right?" she raised an eyebrow.

" I shouldn't have done it, any of it. I know everything I have said and done was really shitty and horrible, yes what happened with Amy opened my eyes, but I – I don't know what happened Phoebe. I'm just sorry, alright? I'm so sorry, I don't know why I said any of those things."

She still wasn't convinced.

"Then why did you?"

He could only shrug his shoulders. It was a question he had asked himself a million times over and a million times later, he still had no definitive answer.

"I don't know. I was an jerk."

"You are a jerk."

He chuckled in spite of the situation.

"You're right."

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

"What is this? Why are you being like this?"

"Phoebe I'm trying to apologize, I was wrong and I wanted to let you know how sorry I was. I know it's not enough but it's something. It is what it is."

"And you were expecting me to forgive you, right? You thought I'd fall for this nice Punk act and drop down to my knees and show my admiration for you all over again?"

"I …"

"Punk you're doing this because you've lost everything, the only thing you have left is your job, you'e lost the love of your life, you've lost the respect of your fellow companions, they just feel sorry for you. I don't know what you want me to do, but I'm not accepting your weak ass apology."

"Phoebe, don't - " The truth was, that didn't mean anything to him, he already knew what she was saying was true. He could feel it whenever he walked into the locker room and he could feel it whenever he got back to his bus or hotel room, _alone_. His life was spiralling out of control and he was slowly growing distant from his friends and family. Punk knew he deserved it, he paying the price and was feeling emptier as each day passed. Wrestling was his only motivation, it was the only thing keeping him going.

"Phoebe, I've said a lot of bad things," Punk began. "I can't make excuses for that stuff, it was disgusting and I'm fucking ashamed of everything,. Pretty much since I've been back, I'm alone, and …"

_You fucking deserve it, _"And?"

"I just needed to make things right, I don't know. I've not been able to concentrate knowing I did those things to you."

"Yeah, well sorry Punk but I'm not buying it."

"You don't have to and I don't blame you? Not many people like me and I said some pretty messed up stuff to get your attention, to get you to break. I don't know why. Maybe because you were so vulnerable and an easy target, I guess I didn't know what I was doing and I took it too far.

"You _guess_? Okay I'm sure this isn't the first time you've tried to hurt someone and I'm pretty sure it isn't going to be your last. Punk what you did was unforgiveable."

"I know Phoebe, but that look on your face, every time I hurt you or said anything, I always remember it. And, I just, something unexplainable happens inside of me, I can't believe it was me that did those things."

"Good. Because it was you that did those things. And please, don't expect me to feel sorry for you. You deserve everything that's coming at you. Whatever you're trying to pull here isn't working, don't think for a minute that I forgive you, you're a vile, disgusting human being."

"I know you think that and you have every right to think that. There's nothing I can do to prove you wrong. I just wanted to tell you that the past few months I've treated you badly. I was a real jerk. I was an asshole and there is nothing I can say to make you feel better. I'm fucking ashamed of what I've done. I don't do apologies Phoebe, you've probably guess that by now."

"And I still haven't heard one. All I've heard is a lot of bullshit and you trying to make excuses for your bad behavior and in the process ease your guilty conscience."

"I'm sorry, okay. I know it's what you deserve so there it is. I said it. I'm sorry for everything that I've done to you."

"I deserve an apology and a lot more but you're not gonna get off that easy, you don't just get to walk away. I'm not gonna do that Punk You've said and done too much. And you just don't care. You made my life here hell, I worshipped you and this company and you saw me as vulnerable and got off by fucking with my life. Now because fucking Amy cheated and dumped you on your ass you actually feel bad about it. I guess I'm supposed to just shake your hand, give you a pat on the back and accept your "apology" and go about our own ways pretending like nothing ever happened?"

He ran his tattooed hand through his hair.

"No, I didn't expect that at all."

"Then what did you expect?"

He looked in her eyes. She was fucking angry. Of course she was. She wasn't letting him off the hook and Punk could feel himself choking up. This was who Phoebe really was. Standing there in sneakers, skinny jeans and a blouse, made up with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, she was so young yet so grown up at the same time.

"I don't know what I expected. I don't deserve anything. I just wanted apologize and let you know how I'm feeling. It never should have treated you like this. You should be able to come to work and do your job and not have to worry or feel scared."

Phoebe took one step back.

"From the first day I came to this company, you made my life here hell, I would cry knowing I would have to come here every day and work for you. I never did anything to you except serve you and be you assistant but you, you kept coming at me trying to break me, hurt me. Well mission accomplished Punk. You can apologize all you want because your words mean nothing to me. You mean nothing to me."

"They say actions speak louder than words."

"Fuck your actions. I don't give a shit. All these weak ass apologies mean nothing and they will never change how I feel. If you really want to do me a favour, you'd stay the fuck away from me. You won't even talk to me, you leave me and Nick alone."

"Yeah, he made that clear the other night."

"What?"

"I ran into him in the hotel. Threatened to kill me if I ever hurt you again.

Phoebe grinned, Nick always looking out for her, "You're not even worth it you prick."

Her words were slow and deliberate and for the life of him, Punk couldn't figure out why they stung him so much.

"I get that you're mad and you're probably gonna be mad for a long time. That's okay. I, I guess I just want you to know I'm for real. Look, we're never gonna be buddies for life but maybe we can at least squash all the bad blood. I'm just trying to be the good guy."

Reluctantly he extended his hand. Phoebe looked at it with utter disgust.

"Get away from me, Punk. Just go to hell."

He watched her brush past him, get in the car and drive out of the parking lot. Phoebe left him standing there until he disappeared from the view in her rear mirror. Without any sense of direction she drove for a few miles but the tightness in her chest and the sweat on her palms was so overwhelming that she was forced to pull over at the next exit. She forced out a deep breath.

What the hell had just happened? The humility, the sincerity, the genuineness? It made her mad as hell. How dare he? From their very first encounter he had been nothing short of a monster who had made it his mission to make her life a living hell. He had managed to succeed and after repeatedly humiliating her and breaking her spirit, now she was just supposed to believe he was sorry? She was supposed to accept that and be fine and forgive and forget? That was never going to happen.

But something inside her was bubbling, the way he had grabbed her arm had sent shivers of fear throughout her small frame. God, she hated him. And hate was such a strong word. Phoebe Walker had never hated anyone in her life but CM Punk had managed to bring out the worst in her. Unfortunately, she had the greatest pleasure of being his assistant. She knew she would see him again, every day until she stopped working here. The very thought made her want to vomit and she had no idea what she was going to do. As she struggled to breath, salty tears rolled down her cheeks, as memories of Punk's words came flooding back to her. _Fuck CM Punk._


	17. Chapter 17

**so so long, but a lot of dialogue and a little sloppy so apologies, Phoebe isn't backing down and Punk isn't either, loving you guys, thanks for supporting!**

_CM Punk had just won the championship, he stood victorious in the ring. CM Punk was a true Superstar, the straight edge superstar in every sense of the word. There was no such thing as face or heel with him, the fans adored him and like him or not, the other talent in the back knew he was the real day, they respected him, he was an indie guy, __**the **__indie guy. He was the underdog of the company winning over the babyface John Cena, he now had everything…fame, a beautiful girlfriend, money that came in bucket loads every week, a lifetime supply of Pepsi and most importantly tickets to a gig every weekend. He even had the respect for Cena, who was lying motionless beneath him on the floor of the ring. Punk had it all now. Wrapping the championship belt around his torso, he strolled out of the ring and jumped into the middle of the crowd, the fans screaming inside his eardrums, patting him on the back, many just trying to get a glimpse of him. Thousands called out his name in unison but only one particular voice stood out from the crowd._

_"You little piece of shit…"_

_The voice was so aggressive and so familiar, barely audible but at the same time it stung, and reality had slowly kicked in. He managed to get up, still sore from the match he looked up, swivelling his head everywhere to put a face to the voice. He began squinting his eyes while scanning the sea of people, he could only make out a man who stood by himself, not cheering with the rest of the WWE Universe, but staring blankly at Punk, a scowl forming._

_"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Why are you here? What's going on?"_

_"You can't wrestle for shit! You'll never amount to anything you bastard, you were a mistake, me and your mother never wanted you," he pointed a shaky, fat finger at Punk, clutching a bottle of Jack in his other hand._

_Punk was speechless. Frozen._

_"Get – out – of – my - head," he shook his head. "You are not real," he spoke through gritted teeth._

_"I am real you son of a bitch. I didn't want you, your mother didn't want you, __**Amy didn't want you**__. You're a loser Phil, you always have been, should've kicked you out of the house a long time ago…"_

_"For fuck's sake, STOP!"_

_"$20,000 cheque or your mother kills herself …"_

_"Go away! She's not my mother, __**stop with the empty threats!**__"_

_"Matt was a better lover than you Phil, he cared about me, he always put me ahead of his career, he wanted a future with me with children, he was better in bed then you ever were, he doesn't snap at me, scream or shout, he wants me, and I want him, now no one will ever want you, you carry too much baggage, no one will know how to take care of you except me…" the voice had changed to a female's, but it was crystal clear, he knew exactly who this was, and he already felt tears burning into his skin._

_"How could you do this to me Amy…"_

_"Liar! This is all your fault! You did this to me! You did this! How could you let this happen?"_

_Her voice became louder, a disgusting sneer so loud that Punk's eyes screwed shut, his hands covering his ears and his legs had suddenly turned to jelly. He let out a scream, however hard he tried to cover the sound it still got louder and louder. The number of voices increased from his mother to his older brother to the bullies at school, it was getting more and more intense. His head pounded and the sounds from the crowd turned from cheers to abuse. Till eventually one voice became clear, "From the first day I came to this company, you made my life here hell, I would cry knowing I would have to come here every day and work for you. I never did anything to you except serve you and be you assistant but you, you kept coming at me trying to break me, hurt me. Well mission accomplished Punk. You can apologize all you want because your words mean nothing to me. You mean nothing to me."_

_Everything became dark, everything had closed in on him._

"NO! NO! NO!"

CM Punk's eyes shot open, his body had jerked upright in such speed he almost toppled out of bed, raging sweat poured out of his body at a sickening pace, his shirt was drenched and so was his entire forehead. _Not had a nightmare like that in a long time._

"Phil! Phil, what the fuck man, are you alright?"

Punk took a minute to readjust himself, his eyes were still seeing sparks from his reoccurring nightmare and he hadn't gotten used to his surroundings yet, blinking a couple of times his eyes darted around the room, he noticed that the television was still on and that a comic book was lying flat on his chest. Checking his phone he noticed it was still night time and he literally did not know where he was, since he was still on his tour bus, alone in his tiny, compact bedroom. He was obliged to adopt the tour bus as his second home. Vinnie had pulled out all the stops and had gotten Punk a top of the range bus, bunks enough for 6 people, red leather seats and a double bed with a flat screen already built in. Not to mention he had his own shower.

Glancing behind him he he looked up to see where the voice was coming from, a broad figure was stood in the door way in basketball shorts and a vest shirt. It was Kofi. However lonely Punk felt in his bed, isolated in his 5 star tour bus bedroom he knew he always had Kofi, and whenever Kofi wasn't around for some reason, Colt would be there in virtual form. Kofi and Punk were a perfect pair, just like him and Scott the two had clicked – _and _with Kofi's dreads and Jamaican roots and Punk's deep, red tint eye bags and heavily tattooed arms, they were always teasing police officers whenever they got asked to pull over. They knew they looked like they knew how to make some pretty good meth.

The pair had met at OVW, he was someone who didn't actually get on his nerves in the locker room, not to mention he made an excellent road wife and game player on the Xbox. He wasn't here just for the money, Kofi actually appreciated wrestling and he knew his boundaries, most importantly Kofi knew how to tolerate Punk. Punk was bad-tempered and moody and sarcastic and at most times, intense, violent and quite frightening. But Kofi was his friend , and Kofi knew things were spiralling out of control for Punk, this was the first time he had Punk call out in the middle of the night, and he was literally drenched in sweat. It scared Kofi inside, he had never seen this side to him, therefore he didn't know how to act around him.

Punk was heartbroken, mentally abused, betrayed and was denied any friendship from Phoebe.

"I'm fine," he said gruffly, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, his heart still hadn't calmed down. He was feeling claustrophobic.

"You're sweating," Kofi piped up.

"I know."

"The bed is soaked," he observed, pointing at pool that had grown on the bed sheets.

"I'm fine Kofi, godamnit what else do you want me to say!"

"You're not fine Punk! You've not been fine for weeks! You'd be stupid not to realise that! Maybe you should call Scott, maybe head back to Chicago, you know?"

"Maybe you should shut the hell up!"

He took that last sentence as a cue to actually shut up, he could take a hint. He silently padded back to his bunk, slamming the door in the process. Punk knew he'd regret that later but he could literally feel the walls closing in on him, similarly to his dream. Everything was silent except the steady rhythm of the bus on the highway beneath him. They clanked and stirred, and Punk hugged his knees wishing he could just go back to sleep again, and wished that this was all a dream. As lame as that sounded, he wished everything would just disappear. The divorce papers had arrived that very morning, delivered like every other post in front of every WWE Superstar, everything was quiet but sirens were flashing within Punk's head. His life was a dump. Maybe Kofi was right maybe Punk should go back to Chicago again.

Without hesitation Punk grabbed his IPhone from the nightstand and speed dialled Scott's number, he realised that it was two in the morning however after 3 rings he heard the phone click.

"Hello?" came a sleepy murmur, Punk's face lighting up already.

"Hey ya big meatball."

Punk could hear Colt's smile through the phone, "Don't you have a match tomorrow, shouldn't you be asleep …"

"Batman doesn't sleep."

"Batman doesn't wrestle."

"I needed to talk to you," Punk sighed.

"Why, what's wrong? What's happened?" Colt's voice oozed concern for his best friend.

"I don't know, I don't want to talk _about it_, but – I just needed a familiar voice," Punk whispered, after a few seconds of thinking about what to say next Punk spoke again. "I miss Chicago."

"Phil, did you just woke up from a nightmare?" he asked worriedly.

"How did you know?"

"You sound … scared, you used to get them when we first met I remember."

"When did you notice they were gone?"

"When you met Maria."

"Jeez." Punk couldn't help but chuckle, his theory was proved right – he truly was alone. Phoebe's words ran through his head again, **_"Punk you're doing this because you've lost everything, the only thing you have left is your job, you've lost the love of your life, you've lost the respect of your fellow companions, they just feel sorry for you." _**

"You still there?"

"You remember Phoebe right?"

"The ugly cunt who was totally in love with you and was trying to convince you that Amy was cheating on you. She was also a fucking suit that stalked you and couldn't leave you alone. You wished she just get hit by a truck, you wouldn't shut up about her to be honest, yeah I remember. What about her?"

Punk rolled his eyes, he knew exactly what Scott was doing and it still pained him, he remembered every single thing he said about Phoebe; to her face and behind her back.

"Don't be a dick man."

"I'm sorry," Scott chuckled into the receiver. "Have you apologised yet, I know you're not too good at that shit."

"I tried, pleaded, I was so close to begging on two feet, but she wasn't convinced. She said a lot of things, and you know that I don't take things personally but – "

"You can't stop now Phil. You really hurt her you know, anything that she said, you probably deserved. Probably didn't mean it, you need to really charm her you know."

"She doesn't want to know, she doesn't want to listen to me Scott. I know I was a dick and I don't know why it's bothering me so much. I just…"

"Maybe it's best to leave her to it then?"

"She's writing my storyline, I see her like three times a week, it's impossible to avoid her, it's impossible to not talk to her."

"You gotta work the charm Punk, you gotta do what you gotta do. She's probably just as stubborn as you are you know, put yourself in her shoes. What would it take for you to forgive someone if they did that to you."

"I wouldn't forgive them," Punk mumbled, which Scott heard perfectly well. Punk stared aimlessly at the television.

"I don't know what to tell you hunny."

"Thanks anyway, babes," Punk smirked as he bit onto his lip ring, the amount of times people had assumed him and Colt were a gay couple was ridiculous, why not egg those people on, they both thought.

"Never change Punk, make sure that girl knows how sorry you are. Don't let her words eat at you, okay buddy?"

"I miss you, brother," he quietly admitted.

"I miss you too, so do the sisters and Mama Chez. Marty says hi and so does Luke and Nattie."

Punk swallowed hard. "Speak later."

"Night." The phone clicked and the call had ended, silence had yet again engulfed him. In a couple hours they would be arriving in the next city for Monday Night Raw.

Barefoot and now clad only in his boxer briefs, Punk got onto his feet and started walking outside of his room in the dark, Punk had stumbled into the bunk part of the bus. Looking around, he saw Kofi's body lounged on the coach.

"You know I don't mean to be a dick Kofi," Punk started.

"Then don't be one. Simple."

Kofi brushed pashed him and placed himself inside one of the beds, shutting the curtain as fast as he could. "Don't Kofi, please. I'm sick of losing people in my life – "

"Stop pushing people away!"

"I don't – mean to. I'm sorry Kofi, realities kicking in, you know. I don't mean to play the "recently divorced" card but I am. I'm missing home, I don't really want to get into it but I'm not making excuses I just need to sort some shit out. I just … don't know how, you know. I don't know."

"I'm not a fucking doormat Punk, look I'll just to speak to you in the morning." Punk returned back to his room, he was feeling terrible and yeah he deserved it. He deserved everything it was simple. Just like Colt had said, just like Phoebe had said.

Words had hurt him so many times before, way back when he was just a child, a teenager and still now, but never once did he think what it was like for other people. Especially someone like Phoebe. She looked so shaken up yesterday, so frustrated, so tried. She had built up a wall between himself and her and she was so definite about keeping that wall up. Amy had promised him once that she's never leave and that she'd never stop loving him, those words now hurt him so much. He had given her his heart and he had crushed it, likewise Punk had done that to Phoebe, treating her like a piece of shit. They say whenever you truly loved someone, when you made love to someone, a piece of your soul would always be with them.

Raw had rolled around and a production meeting was being held just before the show, Punk was set to shoot a promo and would then be interrupted by Triple H and then again by John Laurinitis, the match had been extremely brutal and Punk was extremely beat up. Triple H had won, therefore meaning that he was still COO but with the involvement of Miz, R-Truth and the "conspiracy theory" had stirred the storyline into a slightly different direction. The creative team soon suddenly realised that Punk had the crowd eating in the palm of his hand. Although he had been complaining about how injured he was however he was still competing in a tag team main event match with John Cena vs The Awesome Truth. Phoebe had to admit she had the upmost respect for these wrestlers, she had sat down and watched the entire pay-view but then noticed that just the next day all of the most, most of them were scheduled to be wrestling again the day after. How they did it she'd never know. When she was Punk's assistant she hated seeing him suffer, it would mean that he was usually crabby and moody but also in so much pain.

But things had been going much better ever since she became a creative writer, sure nothing was going on for her in the relationship department however when the WWE Superstars had realised that she was no longer following Punk's orders many of them had introduced themselves to her, which made her feel all the more welcome. She had been too relieved and happy to be skeptical of their actions but the genuine and accepting behaviour had continued and the tension free backstage environment soon become normal. All she had to do was avoid Punk at all costs, it just didn't help that she had to write his storylines.

**_11:30pm_**

The show had ended and the superstars and diva's began filing out of the building as well as the fans, "Hey Phoebs, we're getting a drink, you wanna come along?" Nick asked, waving as Phoebe was gathering the last of her belongings.

Phoebe looked up and grinned. "I'd love too."

Phoebe smiled to herself. It was a nice feeling, she thought as she wheeled her luggage out to the dark and emptied parking lot. For the first time she was actually fitting in and making friends, it had been ages since she had gone out, she was so used to just staying back at her hotel, work, sleep, eat, breathe … cry.

Drinks were all around but Phoebe immediately regretted coming to the club, her head was already pounding and she realised that Nick didn't want to just _get a drink_, in fact he wanted to drink and party hard with his new girlfriend Amy Schumer. She was stunning and beautiful and incredibly funny and witty, all Nick ever wanted in a girl. I was dull, plain, pale and boring with a disturbing sense of humour. Phoebe stared aimlessly at the couple as Amy began grinding upon Nick, it wasn't totally outrageous and abnormal every other couple in the club was doing it, just the look on Nick's face enjoying the pleasure made it all the more harder for Phoebe to watch. She had a soft spot for him, ever since there first run in, it was always there. It was then she decided to order herself a martini or two, anything to make her stop feeling so sorry for herself.

Somewhat later after a couple of glasses of god knows what, she was feeling slightly buzzed and at ease, comfortable with the colleagues she was with but the clock had reached just over 1am, she didn't bother waiting for the Nick and Amy, and decided to stumble her way outside into the crisp, cool air.

"Wow, oh my god you work for the WWE!? That's awesome!" Phoebe hadn't even noticed but a group of fans seemed to have been hanging around the club, looking down she noticed her ID was still clipped to her blouse.

"Yeah. Hi, I guess you're fans right?" Phoebe slurred.

"So where you heading babes?" One of the guys asked, a couple snickered but Phoebe decided to let the "babes" slide.

"Heading back to my hotel where I need to sleep this alcohol off," she chucked uncomfortably.

"You look hungry, wanna grab something to eat?"

"That's very considerate of you but I'm pretty sure there are a slot of diva's in the club you could be hitting on right now instead of someone like me," _someone they could beat the shit out of as well, _Phoebe thought bitterly as the buzz of alcohol stopped, and for a slight second she had begun to sense fear.

"We don't want those fake good-for-nothing whores." Phoebe did not like where this was going.

"I guarantee you that those women are not whores."

"That's okay, because we like tight little girls like you, I bet you're a _virgin_." To this the group snickered, Phoebe felt herself beginning to choke up as one of the guys reached out to touch her arm. Phoebe flinched as fast as she could trying to avoid any contact with any of the men, god knows where they had been, what they _had been doing_.

"Please, I – I don't want any trouble," Phoebe backed away, her mind was still throbbing from the martini's but her heart began thumping against her chest.

"It's okay babe, we'll go easy on you. We won't hurt you, we'll go _nice and slow_," horrified Phoebe turned to leave, but the men we not letting her get away that easy as one of the larger framed guys stood in her way.

"Can you please just leave me alone? What do you want from me?" she shuddered, shaking with fear and frustration.

"I think you know what we want, you might look like a virgin but I bet you feel _amazing_."

"No! Stop it," Phoebe cried as she felt a hand grab her by the waist, snaking around as they tried to grab her meanwhile she was elbowing the man, trying to find some sort of escape.

Another approached her, and Phoebe could only squint her eyes as she lashed out, kicked at whoever had hold of her. She feared that this would be the end of her innocence, the innocence she had kept hold of for so long, and she feared that within minutes she would be abused and thrown away to the side like a piece of trash.

"What the fuck?" she heard someone speak behind her.

Phoebe still couldn't open her eyes, her heart was still in her mouth but when she heard another voice, she knew who it was. Of course it was him, here to save the day, typical modern day Batman to become the hero, CM Punk.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Punk demanded.

Phoebe's eyes cracked open, his face was cold and hard, eyes icy and angry, his body language was stiff and tense as she noticed his biceps practically bulging out of his t-shirt.

"None of your goddamn business, you fucking pussy," one said.

The other had the nerve to grin.

"Are you shitting me you sick piece of fuck? Manhandling a woman, who the fuck do you think you are. Get her hands off her before I kick your teeth in, you illiterate fuck. How dare you out your filthy hands on a woman?"

Punk was seething and Phoebe felt the grip loosen on her waist and arms.

"Look, man, we were just playing around…"

"It didn't look like playing to me!" Punk yelled. "I suggest you get the fuck out of here before I rip you to shreds, and if I ever hear or see you around here again, disrespecting and being rude to another woman, just remember, that no one will miss your bodies while they're gone."

With that, he punched the leader of the group, right in the centre of the nose, Phoebe heard Punk wince but the blood began gushing out of his nose.

Punk stepped closer towards them, towering over them. "Listen to me, you disrespectful bastard. I don't know where you get off by putting your hands on women or trying to force yourself on them , but no means no, I hate goddamn pussies like you, you're the reason women commit suicide, you're the reason they fear to even walk around in public. Apologize," he directed. "Now!"

"We're sorry," they mumbled.

Punk stomped his feet sending them the message that "if they don't get the fuck out of here he was going to torture one of them, slowly and painfully" to that they all ran separate ways, knowing that neither one of them would be able to handle CM Punk.

"Oh god," Phoebe cried as she clutched her chest, feeling a tight pain.

"Hey, hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?" Punk turned to face Phoebe, reaching out to touch her face.

Phoebe recoiled, her hair becoming a curtain for her face, "I'm fine."

She picked up her bags and started walking away. "Phoebe, wait up, Phoebe!"

"Leave me alone, Punk, godamnit" she growled not even bothering to turn around, not even bothering to thank him.

"Don't be a bitch Phoebe I was trying to see if you were okay, clearly you're not okay."

"I just told you I was fine, now fuck off."

She had an attitude that was starting to surprise him. He had been on his way to grab a quick drink with some of the guys, and noticed Phoebe sat subdued with a drink in her hand, staring at Dolph and his new girlfriend. He knew the look she was giving them, it was the exact same look he had one when he was looking at her. Eventually she left without saying goodbye to anyone and after a Pepsi later he thought it was time to hit the hay too. That was when he came outside and saw and heard the commotion outside. The more he heard the angrier he was getting, the conversation was disturbing and it made him livid. He knew the guys were scum and he immediately had to save her so to speak.

"I just saved your ass from those assholes. God knows what they were going to do to you. I would've hated to think what would've happened if I wasn't here."

She finally stopped, feeling like he had struck a nerve.

"What do you want Punk, for god's sake?"

His brow furrowed as he scowled at her. "A thank you would be nice."

She scoffed, clearly finding this hilarious as she turned her back and decided to walk back to her hotel. "That's great Phoebe, fucking great," he grumbled.

"You have some fucking nerve Punk. Sure you never tried to initiate sex with me or tried to manhandle me like a filthy animal but what those guys just did, was you a couple of months ago. You were the disrespectful asshole treating me like dirt, harassing me for no reason when all I wanted to do was try and help you and be a good assistant. You just couldn't let it go and you had to keep pushing and pushing all my buttons."

"Phoebe -"

"You're trash Punk. I appreciate the fact that you were here today, but guess what. I still fucking hate your guts. You will never gain my respect back, and yeah, you know what, I'd hate to think what those guys would've done to me if you hadn't been here. But, anything, _anything_ is better than talking to you. I hate seeing you face when I come into work, I hate seeing your face when I see you on Monday Night Raw. Do not think for a second that I'm just going to forgive you because you swooped in and saved my ass. No way, you can fuck off Punk."

Her voice was loud even though no one was around to her here, her face had grown angry and she was 100% serious. Deciding it was better not to argue, Punk bit back any sort of retort he was thinking of saying back. He stood and watched as she safely hailed a cab back to the hotel. He took a shaky breath and exhaled, he was exhausted but then again he loved running into her. He loved seeing her face almost every da. When she wasn't around Punk would feel somewhat lonely and even emptier. He hadn't been prepared for what her reaction would be but never did he expect it to be that.. It sting him so badly, he would never in a million years think to put a hand on a woman, yet here she was 5"2 little petite woman claiming that CM Punk was exactly like those dickheads that were just harassing her 5 minutes ago. Punk knew she was wrong, he would prove her wrong. He was not like those guys. Maybe Colt was right, maybe it was better to just stay away from her. Punk was just having a hard time doing so.


	18. Chapter 18

**so guys, i thought the story was dragging, Phoebe was being a bitch when Punk was grieving and trying to apologize, SO i fastforwarded the story to a later time, 6 months later, i don't know how that goes with you guys but i'm hoping the story will pick up pace, and eventually spark the chemistry between Punk and Phoebe. I don't know if it's too soon and neither does Phoebe so, let me know what you think guys :)**

_6 months later_

**2****nd**** April 2012**

It had taken 2 pay-per-view's later for Punk to finally become champion, he had been yearning for the gold and the triple-threat-match at TLC against The Miz and Alberto Del Rio was what it took for Punk to win. Punk had to hand it to Phoebe, she was doing an excellent job with keeping up with storylines, sure an assistant's job was tough but having to write full storylines, as well as working on pay-per-views and scripts, there was no way in hell she could've managed. It had been 6 months since that night outside the club. Ever since he had made no attempt to reconcile with Phoebe, there was no point and Phoebe hadn't uttered a single word to him and neither had he.

"BOTTOMS UP, PUNK! DRINK UP PUNK, COME ON DRINK IT UP! IT'S GOOD FOR YOU, C'MON! YOU WANT ANOTHER DRINK? OKAY! DON'T DRINK TOO MUCH, BECAUSE IF YOU DO, IT GOES STRAIGHT- TO – YOUR – HEAD!"

Punk had already made his apologies, but this, this was crossing the line. It was no secret that Jericho had a knack for going to the extremes with storylines and in the ring. Plus, everyone knew about Punk's DVD release explaining his most intimate and precious moments in and outside the WWE and Phoebe had no intention of using that as a storyline and thought it may be risky since the DVD wasn't to be released till the Summer. It had come a shock to many people who didn't know Punk that well, including Phoebe. Writing his storylines was always easy, he was willing to do anything and would hardly ever say no. He didn't even hesitate for the Jericho/Punk that had started just at the beginning of this year, which was initiated by Jericho, no doubt Punk had some input as well. But never did she think that Jericho would do this.

CM Punk's match with Mark Henry had ended in a count out, however Chris Jericho made a surprise appearance to shoot a promo with Punk as he lay helpless on the floor, beat and banged up. Much to the horror of the wrestlers backstage and the crowd in the arena, Jericho continued to pour whiskey all over the WWE Champion and then smash a bottle against his head. This was not okay with her, and seeing Punk's body limp and unmoving caused Phoebe's inside to turn. He had already had a brutal match, and with Wrestlemania the day before she knew everyone was pretty much aching and suffering the hits and blows. The smash over the head with the bottle had seriously crossed the line. Punk was drenched in alcohol, shards of glass were scattered over the floor along with a puddle of Jack emerging from underneath Punk.

Chris had reopened the wounds of Punk's teenage past, with a father that drank and smoked non-stop. Of course what Jericho had said about his sister was not true but nevertheless, that wasn't the point. The promo Chris Jericho had delivered was nailed down to a T in terms of hitting Punk where it hurt, Phoebe no longer wrote for Punk and Jericho as they improvised, they were good enough to do that on their own but she now realised that _that_ was a terrible mistake. Hearing the words tumble out of Jericho's mouth about his father echoed within the arena and within the walls of Punk's head. The nightmares were getting more and more frequent and it shattered and broke Punk inside, and for some strange reason Phoebe felt something tugging at her heartstrings. The look on Punk's face when the alcohol was poured all over him. Phoebe didn't know why Jericho went that far, and neither did Punk. For all he knew, this was all revenge for her? Phoebe wouldn't do that, right?

"What the fuck is going on?" Cena had sprinted to the gorilla area to where Phoebe was stood dumbfounded trying to cut to commercial break. She had a strong dislike for Punk but never did she want this.

"This isn't the promo, this wasn't supposed to happen! I don't know what the hell is going on but get a medic team out there, stat!"

Boos and protests filled the arena, meanwhile backstage, the Raw roster watched as they say Punk's still body on the floor, unaware of why this was happening. Phoebe cast a glance back at the monitor suddenly feeling guilty. This was her storyline, her baby, she was supposed to be taking care of it and yet it was spiralling out of control. She could've sworn she saw tears in Punk's eyes.

"Oh my god. This is wrong. Where the hell is Jericho? Where the hell is Stephanie?" Phoebe shook her head, running a hand over her face. "Who authorised that?" Phoebe seethed in the face of a production assistant who had no answer to her question.

Stephanie's heels lacked against the hard floor, she appeared beside Phoebe, her face was white as a ghost. Stephanie McMahon did not look much better as the two watched the monitor in agony as the promo came to an end and CM Punk's body was shown before going to commercial break. Her dark eyes cast a glance at Stephanie, "Did you know this was going to happen?"

Stephanie didn't respond, her fingers pressed against her chapped lips, when Jericho came through the curtain he gave her a tight squeeze, "Hope that was brutal enough for you!" He gave Phoebe a quick wink who shuddered in the process.

"I trusted him to do what was right. He told me he would take care of it. I didn't think he'd do _that_. I told him to be brutal but I told Punk the exact same thing, I – I – I don't know what was happening." Stephanie whispered inside Phoebe's ear.

A couple moments later the medics had managed to bring Punk back to the gorilla area where he could barely open an eye lid, Phoebe knew he wasn't unconscious as he heard him groan as they placed him in a chair, propping his leg up to see if any damaged had been done to his knee, while another took a closer look on his head.

"We've got some glass here, we're gonna need some hot water and tweezers," said one of them. Phoebe and Stephanie stood awkwardly by meanwhile most of the locker room had gathered round to see if Punk was okay. _Of course he wasn't okay_. Some began to reach out to him, trying to calm him. John stepped forward placing a hand on his shoulder, which Punk aggressively shoved off, "Stop. We're not talking about this. I don't need sympathy off any of you." His voice was rough and harsh, but still shaking.

John began to retort however the room was filled with laughter that was coming from Jericho, "Nothing personal, right Punk." He continued laughing, cackling as he clutched his bare chest, godamnit Phoebe always hated that Christmas tree light up jacket. After a long time, Phoebe felt sympathy for Punk, it was bubbling inside of her and she couldn't hold it back down. She wasn't ready to become best friends with him but she couldn't deny the pity she was feeling. Sure she felt bad for him when Amy had left him, and that was 6 months ago, but no one could ever get over something like that so easily, and now there was this storyline. A storyline she was more than happy to write, not even considering the consequences.

Before anyone could stop him, Punk jumped out of seat and stormed towards Jericho who had still continued sniggering at Punk, his hands were balled up into fists.

"Punk, stop!" Stephanie tried holding him back but Punk's strength was too much for her, as he barged past her and Stephanie to face Chris who had the nerve to smirk in Punk's face.

"Come on Punk. Don't be like that, it's part of storyline. Things didn't mean to get this far but, it was fun, entertaining, the crowd loved it. Your dad's probably home watching it right now, with a bottle of Jack resting in his fat hand, smoking whatever concoction he made, and your mother, _well_ – "

Punk didn't give him a chance to finish as he raised his tattooed fist towards Jericho's face, by instinct Chris ducked as fast as he could, dodging Punk's fist within a millisecond. However his punch had connected with somebody else's face, sending them crashing to the ground. Punk watched Phoebe land with a thump, she clutched her nose however temporarily disoriented Punk couldn't even comprehend what he had done. He just saw her, lying on the floor. The wrestlers surrounded her, tried shaking her, waking her from her unconsciousness. Looking at the motionless Phoebe, Punk knew instantly that she was really hurt. The punch was meant to be a knock out, and do some real damage. Jericho and Punk exchanged uneasy glances unsure of what to do next.

"Phoebe! Phoebe!" Punk whispered softly into her ear, still not getting a response.

Her eye started to blacken and there was blood gushing out of her nose. Punk stared horrified as he kneeled over the woman he had accidentally hurt. He had already caused her so much emotional damage that would never be forgivable and now he had hurt her even more, physically. Punk knew his own strength, everything with Jericho, everything Jericho said seemed to disappear and shut down. That didn't matter anymore, Punk swore he would never hit a woman in his life. Yet here he was staring at the petite young lady he had punched in the face. A medic had waddled over, he was burly so he managed to carry Phoebe by himself, she definitely needed looking at by a professional doctor.

"Punk! Punk! You still need medical attention!" A medic called out from behind Punk as he limped in Phoebe's direction, he wasn't the only one that needed looking at.

"Yeah, and does Phoebe!" Punk barked at one of them.

"Listen Punk, you stubborn pain in the ass, you and Phoebe are both being checked out, by the doctors here. Jericho, in my office, now! Punk listen to what the medics tell you, and when Phoebe wakes up make sure you apologise to her. And mean it! Goddamnit, this is a total zoo." Stephanie growled strutting towards her office, Punk glared daggers at Jericho, he had some unfinished business with him but Punk knew it would have to wait for now. Reaching the room, Phoebe's small body was placed on a stretcher bed, while Punk's plopped himself on a bed next to her, someone had tended to the glass that was still in his head however Punk couldn't help but look over her body. So frail. So delicate.

"I'm so sorry Phoebe. It's going to be okay, you'll be okay," Punk whispered, more to himself than to Phoebe. All he could do was hope that every would be okay. Emotional damage was something that no one could ever get over, but if Phoebe was hurt for sure, Punk knew he could never forgive himself.

The impact alone had knocked Phoebe out cold for a matter of minutes. After the show had officially ended and the live broadcast was over, the medics rushed out and only then did Phoebe began to stir. In next than no time, she had been snatched out of Punk's embrace and placed on an ambulance bound stretcher. He had spent a restless night in his hotel room, he knew it would've been worse if he had gone with the medics, and even he knew she would not appreciate seeing Punk first after she had gained consciousness. John and Nick had gone and secretly Cena had been updating him on everything, according to doctors she kept stirring in her sleep, but that may have been because she was feeling extremely lethargic.

There was no way in hell could sleep. How could he possibly? His heart was thumping and his ears were ringing. Every time he tried closing his eyes all he could see was Phoebe's crippled body in the ground, and everything would go pitch black. Punk then resorted to thinking about the following week, his win at Wrestlemania had been phenomenal, that time had been magical. Every match he had ever done he had wrestled to his maximum best, he was still aching from the win. Then he thought about Hall Of Fame. Punk hadn't gone with Amy like he always planned, however he had taken Lars. Colt would occasionally drop in what Amy was up to these days but Punk was no longer interested. He was officially a divorcee, just lke SuperCena and Orton. Typical.

But the Hall Of Fame was better than he could ever imagine. Mostly because, he got to see Phoebe.

_She was stunning, he couldn't deny it. But seeing her on that night, he could barely take her eyes off of her. Her petite frame had a black, velvet strapless, sleeveless dress wrapped around her, her slender arms bare, with tattoos that adorned her right arm. Punk wondered if she was hoping for a sleeve. Her chest had been pushed up, amplifying her perfectly formed breasts. Punk's mouth had gone dry by this point. Everything he had ever said to her face, behind her back to her friends was all a lie. Truth was, he adored her. He respected her. He cared for her. He wanted to love her. _

_Punk noticed that Phoebe was still lusting over Dolph Ziggler, however Nick had a lovely lady draped over him, a beautiful, blonde broad that suited his witty personality exceptionally. Punk was extremely impressed by the ceremony that night, the inductees were well deserved and was definitely worth going, even though he had a brilliant view of Phoebe from where he was sat. The ceremony had come to an end, and as if by tradition there was an after party held straight after at some hot, flashy club. As the superstars filed out of the building, Punk and Lars decided that is was best not to go with them. What were a pair of straight edge, tattooed mother fuckers going to do at a club that contained half naked girls and drinking? _

_Stepping outside into the night, Punk scanned the scene for a cab, turning to his side he felt his breath catch in his throat. Forcing himself to look at her more closely Punk had a very hard time, keeping things from not … getting hard. Her light blue eyes, the way her skin shun in the moonlight, so exposed, so seductive. His gaze moved upward, following the line of the gown, over softly rounded hips and up, even higher. He sucked in a quick breath as his gaze moved over the swell of pair of perfectly sized breasts, now so close he was almost in reach to touch them. Phoebe hadn't noticed, but when she turned, her face carefully arranged into a smile expecting Nick or Jake, or even Matt she immediately brushed it off when she noticed it was Punk's eyes that were trailing down. _

_For the first time in almost 6 months, they had finally looked at each other. Phoebe had nothing to say. And neither did he. She was still being stubborn, and Punk understood 100%. She froze. Rapidly trying to look anyway but at Punk. Punk in a suit, she had never seen that._

_"You clean up well," Punk mumbled, kicking himself in the head. His head swivelling right back round when she found him staring at her, anything, he could've said anything, you're beautiful, you look stunning, you look wonderful, but no._

_"Wish I could say the same thing for you, don't think suits are your thing," Phoebe bit back, her tone light. Turning to look at her, they shared an awkward laugh._

_A taxi had pulled up in front of Phoebe; brushing past him Punk felt the heat of her body through his shirt. She paused for a moment beside him and flicked a heated look at him. She glared at Punk, narrowing her eyes, "Just so you know, this doesn't mean we're friends or anything."_

The memory had left a nice imprint in Punk's brain, and by the time he relived the moment, the only moment he had ever shared with her that didn't make him hate himself, besides the last part. It was reaching 5am and Punk was growing increasingly restless. Punk hauled a cab to the hospital Phoebe was at, thinking about his run in with Phoebe on the drive there.

"I'm looking for Phoebe Walker, she was brought in by WWE medics," Punk spoke lowly, hoping no one would notice him. "She was brought in here a couple of hours ago."

"Room 321, sir, on the second floor." Punk nodded in appreciation and sprinted towards the destination, within minutes he had jumped 2 steps at a time, his legs throbbing after every jump. He reached the second floor and raced through, scanning the room numbers until he saw the numbers '321.' At the very end of the corridor he saw the numbers he had been searching for and peered in through the window. She was awake. She was on her phone, and somehow she looked pretty content considering she had just been punched in the face by a wrestler. His feet had somehow managed to have a mind of their own and he ended up stumbling into the room, his hands pushing through the door, his legs had given up on him tonight and he had well and truly embarrassed himself. Punk had hoped that Phoebe was alone so he could apologise to her, unfortunately Dolph was sat opposite to Phoebe and was now on both feet staring menacingly at Punk.

"H-H-Hi. Erm, I'm not here to cause trouble, I think I've done enough of that, I just erm, fuck, I just want to apologize to Phoebe," Punk stammered, motioning towards her. For once in her life Phoebe had no idea what to say. Having gained consciousness she realised that Punk was provoked and meant no harm. Jericho had been an asshole and had touched on a sensitive subject. Her of all people knew what emotional damage that can do to someone. It still hadn't erased the memory of what Punk had done to her, nevertheless, ever since seeing the final cut of Punk's DVD, she hadn't managed to get the story out of her head. _Everything about my father is true, he was a heavy drinker. I can't remember the first time I ever saw him without a bottle. I was so scared you know, I was just a kid. I haven't even spoken to my brother in 10 years. It's real life you know_.

"Just so you know Punk, I didn't know Jericho would go that far, that wasn't on the booking sheet and I don't know how that happened. So for that I'm sorry he said those things," Phoebe started

"I don't want your sympathy," Punk blurted out, cutting her off.

"I know, but what he said … "

"I said I don't want your sympathy. Just drop it, goddamnit" Phoebe swallowed, she knew that she didn't have to apologize, especially after everything that happened between herself and him. She was not ready to accept his apology for attacking her on so many occasions, but here she was blurting out apologies for doing something she didn't even do.

"Like I said, I'm here to apologise for punching you. I never meant it, I would never hurt you, and I would never lay a finger on a woman. I respect women too much, especially you. I'm probably the last person you want to see. I know I haven't a good guy, I know I treated you like shit when you were my assistant and I don't know, Phoebe. I just can't believe that was me, that did that to you. You never deserved it, and you certainly didn't deserve that blow to your face. It's my fault and I have so much respect for you, you're still here. Most people would be gone by now and I am so proud that you're here, sticking to yoru guns. Mistakes happen all the time, people get seriously injured all the time around here, in the ring and unfortunately you were the one that got hurt. You're so fragile and small, and I just, I just wanted Jericho to stop talking. I just don't know what came over me, what can I say? I didn't mean to and I feel like shit for it. You're hurt, all I have ever done is hurt you and I'm just, I hate saying sorry but you will never know how sorry I am. You don't believe me. I get that and I can't say that I blame you.

I've same some pretty messed up things to you in the past. I know because of the way I acted before, it's kind of hard to trust me but I you'e got to know last night was an accident. I've hurt you in other ways but I'd never hurt you physically and I just wanted you to know that. I wish it was me in that bed right now instead of you. I should be in a bed I'm that banged up but here I am. I just want us to work together and get along, you know? I'm asking for a truce of some sorts. Maybe, I don't know start over and I won't be a jerk to you. Maybe. I wanted to stay away but, we're always going to run into each other, it's inevitable you know.

Jericho, really got to me, and to be honest, I want out, after the next PPV, I want you to cut the storyline, if that's not too much trouble. I know you worked very hard for Extreme Rules, so I'm begging you here Phoebe. I don't want to do this anymore. Again, I'm sorry." Punk felt like a stammering idiot, he didn't think Phoebe was going to take notice of him. But he had to try. Phoebe had never seen him so vulnerable, which made her heart clench. He was right, the storyline was getting way out of hand.

"Remember what I said I'd do to you if you ever hurt Phoebe again, you can't just waltz in here Punk and expect us to listen to some bullshit crap that you've spieled out of your mouth this time." Dolph snarled shoving Punk backwards. Punk didn't want a fight, mostly because he was so beat up he would never last most than 10 seconds. Not wanting to cause more havoc and pain, Punk held his hands up in defeat and limped out of the room without saying so much as a goodbye.

"What a dick," Dolph huffed, returning back to his chair.

"Yeah, what a dick," Phoebe sighed, her finger tracing the stitching on her nose.

"Can you believe the nerve of him? Waltzing in here, expecting _you_ to accept his apology after hurting you physically _and _mentally!?"

"He was provoked Nick."

"Are you fucking kidding me Phoebe? I don't care what emotional turmoil he had been through when he was a teenager, he had hurt you so many times, are you defending him. What is this?"

"I'm not defending him, we're not even friends and we're never going to be. I just, I was so stubborn before, I hated his guts at one point and now I guess I just tolerate him. But we've both been through too much. You can't just shove someone aside, you have no idea what some people have gone through Nick. I don't want to feel hateful, I don't want to be harsh. I'm sick of it. Tonight was disgusting and I can't believe Chris did those things. It doesn't erase what Punk did to me, but Punk has suffered, I don't want to see him suffer more. I'm cutting the storyline."

"I can't believe this." Dolph's voice was so quiet, yet disappointingly menacing. She barely heard him but the message was loud and clear. Phoebe had no idea what was coming over her. Feeling sorry for CM Punk? The man who had destroyed her, and partially and most certainly could've damaged her one and only shot to achieving her dream. The man who told her she'd never find love. The man who said she would never become a writer. The man who only hours ago, punched in her square in the face. The man who had apologised to her countless amount of times, and she every time ignored them. Was what she did justified?

He certainly knew he was sorry, but did Phoebe ever do anything wrong? Knowing Punk was hurting, used it to her advantage and played with his emotions, displaying them on live television? Torn between waiting to have a truce with Punk and hating him for everything he had ever done to her Phoebe decided to lay on her back, staring at the blankness of the ceiling. It only her mind was that blank she'd be able to get some rest.


	19. Chapter 19

**short but thought you guys deserved an update, hope you enjoy lovelies, hope it doesn't bore you guys :)**

Punk sighed as he lay on the bed of his luxury tour bus, legs, butt, chest, stomach, arms, head pounded like hell, he had his sock covered feet propped up against one of the windows listening to Colt's latest Art of Wrestling podcast. He occasionally looked down at his tattooed hand, shaping it into a fist remembering that fist had pummelled Phoebe to the ground. Smackdown tapings would start soon and Punk was only scheduled to record a message to Jericho, which was fine by Punk. He had not heard from Jericho and from what he had heard, no one had – which was getting Punk strangely suspicious. Maybe Phoebe, Stephanie and Jericho were secretly conspiring behind his back, he didn't know. He didn't _want _to know. He had been laying low for the past few weeks, just because he felt exhausted with everyone, and he felt, he _knew _people were exhausted with him. Sure he was restless and bored out of his mind but and he had a lot on his plate. Kofi no longer travelled with Punk, that had ended a while ago when he decided to travel with R-Truth, Kofi assured him it was nothing personal and he just wanted to keep Truth company for a while but Punk wasn't stupid. Kofi was getting frustrated with Punk, who wasn't?

Punk was feeling even more frustrated with Nick being around Phoebe 24/7 – what was his deal? He had a girlfriend, Punk couldn't fathom why the bleached, blonde bastard couldn't just leave Phoebe alone. Sure they were friends but, staying with her all night at the hospital? Punk had virtually giving up trying to get to know Phoebe, that time at the hospital was the last time he thought he'd ever apologise. He was sorry for who he used to be and he was sorry for breaking her heart and treating her like dirt. Not knowing how she had coped during this time when he was torturing her only fuelled his insanity. _Probably_ _Nick._ Of course he knew she was never going to forgive him, he just felt awful about hurting her, mentally and physically - just one more thing added to the guilt that was consuming him.

Stephanie had been continuing to send memo's all day, assistants of hers had been banging on his bus door, apparently she had found Jericho and she wanted to set up a meeting but he had to bail. He was too angry, a beast inside of him was about to be released and he just didn't have the physical strength at that time. There was still an hour or so before everyone had to be _at_ the arena. Punk knew a lot of the guys and girls in the locker room and backstage staff were already inside but he just couldn't deal with the "have you seen Phoebe yet?" or "have you seen Jericho yet?" or "how're you holding up Punk? This must be so hard for you" bullshit spiel. So he had kept himself to himself, feeling sorry for himself, brooding with his dark thoughts all alone on the bus that had become his place to hide out and block the world.

The podcast had ended and Punk removed his headphones, suddenly everything was silent. Just how he liked it lately. No screaming fans, or screaming middle aged men yelling abuse at him. Jericho's words burning into him. Grabbing a few things, he decided to go for a run, until he heard someone knocking softly at his door.

Punk chose to ignore it but the knocking continued.

A few moments later the knocking hadn't stopped. Punk groaned inwardly, rolling his eyes assuming it was one of Stephanie's or Vince's assistants nagging him about something irrelevant or about the meeting with Jericho. _No doubt Phoebe would be there._

"Fuck off, I already told one of your other damn suit slaves to piss off, Tell dear Stephanie that I'll come when I want to. Got it?!"

Another knock banged.

"For fuck's sake," Punk mumbled to himself as he got up. " LISTEN , I HAVE ALREADY TOLD YOU GUYS THAT -"

He stomped to the front of the bus and fiercely flung the doors to the tour bus open.

"I DON'T CA - " he began in a threatening tone but stopped as soon as he realised who was at the door. Shock and surprise rushed over him as his eyes trailed down to see a petite woman standing in a strappy rouge red dress, a purple bruise that had tainted her beautiful face imperfectly.

"Punk," her voice was weak, but she spoke with confidence.

He still stood there in disbelief, suddenly the feeling of ache and discomfort in his body had vanished, the bruising in her face made his insides quiver with unease and guilt but at the end of the day, she was still … flawless. He had no idea she was here, she had never even been in his bus, he had never _let_ her. He had wanted to speak to her and have a conversation that lasted for hours, just so he could look at her and the way her lips moved shaping every single word with perfect, pink lips. He knew for definite that this wasn't why she was here.

"What are you doing here?"

Phoebe tried keeping her gaze as cold as she could, she was not here to apologize, she had nothing to apologize for her. It clicked somewhere in her head that Punk must think that her and Jericho were behind this whole need to disrespect Punk and his family. Phoebe would never stoop that low, she understood good TV, but there was a definite line she knew not to cross.

"Because if you're here to yell at me, and tell me that my apology meant nothing. Or if you're here because they can't cut the story line like I asked politely yesterday, OR if you're here to get me to do something else with Jericho then you can just leave. I'm tired and sore, and I can't deal with this bullshit anymore."

"I'm here to tell you I talked to Stephanie and Jericho, they're cutting the storyline. They agreed that things had gotten way too personal and way out of line, and they apologize."

Punk raised an eyebrow. "They send _you_, to apologize on their behalf? Wow, I feel so much better now, how considerate of them."

Phoebe smirked at the sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Yeah, they're real friendly. I didn't get a chance to ask Jericho why he did what he did but he didn't look like he wanted to talk to me. I'm not sure I wanted to talk to him either, he was completely disrespectful, I was truly disgusted. And I know you didn't mean to punch me intentionally, you were provoked, and I knew you're not looking for sympathy but I truly am sorry. That was some pretty dark shit you know, and just everything about your past. I just never knew."

"I hope you're not apologizing just because you heard about what happened when I was a kid. Because that is in fact sympathy and you're only doing it because you pity me. I really don't want it, and I don't want to talk about that either right now."

"Really? Because last time I checked you apologized to me because you realised I was right about you and Amy and – "

"Stop bring her up. You _always _bring her up. I'm done with her!"

"You know exactly what I mean. Stop being a hypocrite. I don't pity you Punk, we're just worried about you and - "

"Who's we?"

"People in the locker room," Punk scoffed but Phoebe still continued, "Stephanie and the creative team, they feel responsible."

He had the urge to ask if she was worried about him too but it was still on the tip of his tongue and decided against it.

"How's your eye?" Punk asked concerned, changing the subject.

"Sore, but I can live with it. Tried putting foundation on it but it just stung so goddamn much. I feel like a zombie with no make up on."

"You don't need make up, you're beautiful, you know?" Punk's eyes widened, realising he had just said that out loud.

"Actually I don't know. Anyway, that's all I wanted to tell you. It's not been some contest of wanting to get back at you. You and I both know you treated me badly but I'd never hurt you intentionally like you. I don't want to ever get back at you, Punk. If anything I just want to forget it ever happened, it's just hard seeing you every day. I want to forgive you but I can't bring myself to do it. You have to understand. It's so hard."

"Believe it or not, I still respect what you do on TV and in the ring. I don't pity you, everything that's happened in your life has made you who you are today and you shouldn't be sorry for that. I just never will understand why you acted the way you did towards me. I respected you and liked you for who you were. Anyway, I know you didn't mean this. I saw the look on your face. You look liked you had ran over a puppy or something.

"I'm still pissed off. But we've been through a lot throughout the past year. I just couldn't let it go Punk. You've apologised so many times and I just wasn't having it. I don't know why because you were so genuine about it. I know I wrote your storylines and I was surprised you even trusted me and – "

"But you're here, what's changed, I don't get it." he asked.

"I don't think I can ignore you after your apology that you gave me in the hospital. I've been trying to ignore you for so long because I was just so stubborn Punk. I was really touched by what you said to me and you know I knew you meant every single word. I'm still hurt Punk, I can never forget that."

Punk swallowed, turning away with shame.

"You know what you did, you know what you said and you know how you treated me. You knew I didn't deserve it. But that doesn't mean they weren't unforgiveable, look Punk, what I'm saying is that everybody deserves a second chance. I guess you can't like everybody and you just dealt with it a completely different way. I know you're not going to do that anymore. At least I hope you're not. You made it really hard for me to come to work every day. This was is my dream job, Punk – but I know you've changed. I guess you knocking me out literally proved that, ironically but you're right. You do write my storylines and we do have to work with each other. We're going to need to communicate and I don't want it to be awkward. We're going to be cutting the storylines and we have some great things lined up, so what I'm saying is, I don't want there to be tension between us. I want to forget everything and have a fresh start."

Punk couldn't believe his ears. "You're serious, right?"

"I am. I never thought I'd be here, in front of your bus saying these things, I didn't think I could ever work with you ever again but everything at the hospital you know. It meant so much that you cared enough to come to see me. I mean, it surprised me. I didn't expect you to and I knew then that you didn't mean it. All this hatred is exhausting. I know how sorry you are, you've been through so much Punk. You've compensated."

"I just, I remember when you used to visit me in the hospital after a match when I was seriously injured. You were so caring and you just wanted to see if I was okay, it was sweet and I never realised it at the time, I owed you I guess. I don't know why I was a dick Phoebe, I really don't. You know one thing?"

"What?"

"I wasn't at all surprised that Amy was cheating on me. It was like I saw it coming. Not because you cared enough to warn me, but it was because we were having problems and I thought marrying her would solve them. It doesn't matter now, I'm over it. I'm just glad you want to start over Phoebe."

"Same," Phoebe smiled a genuine smile at Punk. "I don't want you to think we're like best friends Punk. I mean, this is professionally friendly, just so you should know."

Punk thought he had gotten more than enough from Phoebe, "I know, I mean I can't believe you're even hear to forgive me, I don't want to influence you but I don't think I could ever find the strength to forgive someone like that. Thank you. So much."

Phoebe nodded, "Not everyone can Punk. I mean I'm stubborn, it took me 6 months to forgive you, you know."

"Yeah, I get that." Their eyes locked and then quickly looked away, anywhere other than each other.

"Thanks for stopping by. I really appreciated this."

"It's great, I really liked getting this out." Punk chuckled nervously, playing with the back of his hair. It wasn't at all styled and he suddenly felt self-conscious, a curtain fringe had formed by his forehead.

"We cool, Punk?" Phoebe grinned a mega-watt smile.

"Sure thing," Punk returned the smile and watched her walk back towards the arena until she was a beautiful blur. Punk closed the door to his bus, leaning against it as his encounter with Phoebe ran through his head. _She had forgiven him. She wanted to move on. She knows I hurt her and she still wanted to forgive me. _Punk didn't know Phoebe all that well, but he had now realised what kind of a woman she was. She cared so much for others, she always put others ahead of herself, she was so vulnerable and delicate at times but she was a strong woman who never broke when she was at her lowest point.

Punk gathered his belongings and decided to follow Phoebe through the parking lot into the arena. Punk couldn't get rid of the smile that was etched all over his face, after so long, after 6 long months things were suddenly looking up for him.


	20. Chapter 20

**it's been ages since I updated! hope this doesn't disappoint :))))))))) review/follow/tell your neighbour's mum's cat ;)**

Phoebe growled in frustration as she saw the flight back to Stamford was delayed 5 more hours, this was just typical. She was stuck in Chicago with nowhere to go and with little to no money. Every time she tried ringing someone it either went to voicemail or there phone was delayed. The thundering rain storm had been the main cause to the delay in flight- her hair was stuck to her head soaking, dripping wet, luckily she wore no makeup or else she would've looked like a clown, and finally her white, lace bra had begun to emerge from the thin material, the blouse that clung to her body.

The live shows had already been recorded so it was just house shows throughout the entire week, Phoebe was needed for it but if she didn't get a flight out soon she was worried in case she was stuck in Chicago for the whole tonight, freezing her tits off. Hours began to pass and Phoebe was feeling frustration build up inside her. She was supposed to be in L.A an hour ago, an hour ago she should've been wrapped up in the sunny heats sipping a Cosmopolitan. Her teeth chattered and the goosebumps on her skin were almost permanent. Eventually it was one in the morning when Phoebe had woken up from lounging on an airport chair, she was growing increasingly uncomfortable and decided to ahead for some coffee, preferably a Starbucks.

Finally she had found one around a corner, thanking god that no one was around and that she was the only customer; she set her suitcase and laptop case on a nearby table and went to order something.

"What can I get you ma'am?"

"Yeah, can I get a Vanilla Bean Macchiato and a roasted tomato and mozzarella Panini to go please," Phoebe smiled at the man serving.

"Will that be all?" Nodding, the cashier finally asked. "And what's your name please ma'am?"

"Phoebe."

"Make that two please, the name's Punk" a voice spoke from behind her. _Punk? What was he doing here?_ Phoebe swivelled around to see him with a bag slumped over his back, and a cap to cover his face, not so successful. The cashier scurried off, leaving the two alone.

"Punk."

He looked up from his cap, while Phoebe's was still shocked to see him there he looked up and she could've sworn that she saw him smirking. Truth be told Punk was coming in from a house show to return back to his home in Chicago, seeing her waiting in Starbucks on her own had surprised him and he decided to see what was going on. Ordering the same thing as she did just made it easier for them to sit down together somewhere and talk.

"I was sure it was you, I just had to make sure. So what brings you to Chicago?" Before Phoebe could answer the cashier bustled over.

"That will be $13.95." Phoebe reached down into the bottom of her purse, fishing out her purse, meanwhile Punk handed over his American Express card.

"Midnight meal is on me, least I could do," swiping it the man handed it back to Punk. Phoebe flashed him a small smile and strode along to the end of the counter to wait for her coffee and sandwich.

"I was supposed to be on a plane back to Stamford but, it's been delayed for 5 hours now," she blew a heavy sigh. "What about you?"

"I'm back home, got the week off so no more house shows for me," Phoebe's mind clicked, of course Punk was from Chicago and neither him nor Jericho were doing house shows till Extreme Rules.

A couple moments passed in silence and eventually the two had gotten there drink and Panini and Phoebe walked over to the table where she had left her suitcase and laptop, Punk following behind her. Phoebe took a sip of her Macchiato, feeling the hot liquid slither down her throat, it felt good and made her somewhat more awake, resting the drink she noticed Punk was watching her intently.

"Are you going to sit with me?"

"I did pay for it, but if you want me to go…" Phoebe didn't want to exactly eat with him but she couldn't say no, he_ did _pay for it.

"Sit down, it's fine." Punk pulled up the chair opposite her and plopped himself down. In silence they spread out their food and drinks, Punk was first to take a bite out of his sandwich.

"I'm so hungry," Punk mumbled, enjoying the heat and the taste of his Panini. The weather had been incredibly cold and thunderous outside.

"So what time's your next flight?" Punk asked through mouthfuls.

"9am, the rain has fucked up all of the flight schedules," Phoebe grumbled as she nibbled at her Panini.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, Phoebe looked down at Punk Panini, it had all gone, still looking at her Punk began sipping on his hot drink. "This is so good, I've never had this."

The look of appreciation and surprise on Punk's face made Phoebe grin, "Not sure, might check into a hotel."

"You don't have to you know, not to brag but I do have a five bedroom home," Phoebe saw were Punk was going with this and there was no way in hell she was going to stay with _Punk_. She did call a truce but this wasn't what she had bargained for.

"I don't think so Punk," Phoebe grabbed her half eaten sandwich and her Starbucks and attempted to grab all of her belongings, trying to escape from Punk. She threw the laptop bag over her shoulder, placed the sandwich under her arm and hastily grabbed her suitcase and within 5 seconds she immediately lost balance and watched her Macchiato drop to the floor.

Punk staggered towards Phoebe taking the suitcase from her so she was left with her sandwich and laptop bag, "Phoebe stop being stubborn, you're my _friend_ and well Chicago is my home. You can sleep for a couple of hours and then you can leave in the morning." Phoebe looked up from the spillage of the coffee, it wouldn't hurt to stay at his home, for free. However, she didn't appreciate his tone.

"What's the big deal, why are you so afraid?"

"I don't even know you, how can you say you're my friend? We've never even, talked."

"Well then this is the perfect time to get to know each other," Punk didn't see what the big deal was, he didn't understand Phoebe at all. He was making his way towards the exit with the suitcase still in his hand, rolling her eyes Phoebe followed him out, not liking this one bit. _I bet he does this to all the girls,_ she thought frustrated that she had ended up here.

"Why the long face? You get to stay in a million dollar home for free, only for a couple of hours of course," Punk winked, hauling themselves a cab.

"Is this how you pick up girls?" Phoebe laughed mockingly.

"No, I don't pick up girls. I don't _do_ that shit," Punk spoke flatly, harshness to his tone.

_"_Shit, Punk that's not what I meant, I mean – "

"Don't." Phoebe watched as Punk's face grew dark, she could hear the clogs and wheels in his brain churning away, thinking hard. The two sat in the back of the car while the cab driver threw the suitcases into the back.

"Thank you." Phoebe squeaked, the cab's engine roaring into life.

"Anytime." Punk replied without looking at Phoebe, staring ahead.

The cab drive to his apartment was fairly quiet and without a doubt the most awkward, Phoebe could feel Punk's eyes on her the whole journey there. Her mind drifted elsewhere as she stared out the window, Chicago was an incredible city. Beautiful during the winter, considering Phoebe had never experienced snow – it was beautiful all the same during the spring and summer periods. Night time was even better, for any city really – blinking lights and moonshine made the city all the more magical. No wonder Punk loved it here, this was _home_ for him, a place where he felt at ease and relaxed.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of the luxury apartment Phoebe's anxiety levels began to rise, she heard Punk's doors click he had already paid for the journey and was now grabbing the luggage. Phoebe tried grabbing her own suitcase from Punk but he wasn't having any of it.

"I can't let a lady carry her suitcase, what kind of a man would I be if I did?" Punk grinned, waggling his eyebrows. Phoebe didn't say anything, she was feeling extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed already, all she needed was a warm, soft bed, she was craving sleep badly.

Punk didn't even have to get out a key, he simply turned the handle and Phoebe was surprised to see that his apartment was actually open. Before she could ask Punk called out, "Colton?"

"You're home! Yay," Phoebe recognised the man that came padding towards Punk giving him the bro hug, Phoebe brushed past him and decided to give herself her own little tour.

"Is that – " Colt's eyes followed her until she disappeared.

"Yeah." Punk spoke flatly.

"Do I even _want_ to know?" Punk shook his head, throwing his suitcase over his shoulder; he motioned Colt to follow him into the kitchen. "She was at the airport, her hair wet, she just look so tired and frustrated, so I walked over there and you know, I thought I was doing a good thing inviting her hear. Her flight's been delayed for like 5 hours, I felt bad for her. I don't even know where she is right now."

"You invited her _over_?"

"What else was I supposed to do? She was freezing and alone, she looked like she needed some sleep, I was heading home, I was being a good Samaritan here!" Punk barked defensively.

"You don't think she got the wrong impression?"

"And what impression would that be?" Punk didn't know what Colt was trying to get that.

"Never mind, I missed you, you tattooed motherfucker."

Phoebe loved Punk's apartment. She loved everything on the walls, all the ornaments and collectables, she wasn't a big comic book fan, but the artwork that was plastered over the walls was fascinating. For a moment Phoebe forgot who's house this was, this only confirmed what she said to Punk at the airport, she didn't know him at all, she had _no idea_ he was a horror fanatic, something that made her admire him a little bit more. She eventually reached the top of the stairs, she saw a couple more tradition posters, Creature From The Black Lagoon, Bride of Frankenstein, Dracula, Forbidden Planet, she had no idea which room to take. The line of rooms reminded her of the Shining, she guessed the room that was slightly ajar was Punk's. She could also hear a conversation and decided to take the room opposite.

She was mistaken, _this_ was Punk's room, and her second guess was that the room opposite was where Colt was staying. Surprisingly his room was well kept, one half of the room was covered in band posters and the other half had a shelf full of all sorts of books, and a pin board that had a variety of photographs, gig tickets, various wrestling merchandise that was scattered over the bed and several on the wall. Edging closer she looked at each individual picture. There weren't any of Amy, _thank god_. Many of what she could only assume was his "adoptive" family, Colt, Lars, a couple from indie days, Natalie, Phoebe recognised her from Punk's DVD. She eventually backed away and her eyes scanned the rooms again, glass cases that had some figurines and she even noticed a limited edition, _signed_, Jason mask. Phoebe was in awe. Her eyes glanced upon the bed, it was so neatly made up Phoebe wondered how long it had been since Punk had even slept in it. She would be stupid not to realise that Punk and Amy would've spent many nights together on that bed, she skimmed her fingers over the duvet, it was so cold -

"You've made yourself at home then?" _Shit. _Phoebe turned around to see Punk leaning against the door frame, a stony expression on his face.

"I was just picking a room, I had no idea that this was yours, I mean, you know, I was just looking for a room to sleep in, I'm tired, and I was just curious, I – "

"The room next door's free, you can sleep in there," Phoebe looked up the see Punk's expression soften, a smile tugged at his lips but never reached his eyes.

"Your house is amazing, I've not even seen every room yet, I'm literally in awe Punk," Phoebe smiled, pointing at various objects, even the posters and the posters that were outside the rooms.

"I love it too, I just wish I was here to live _in it_," Phoebe understood what Punk meant, she felt bad but then wondered what Punk would do in this large house, alone. "One day." Punk spoke surprising Phoebe, wondering what he was thinking at the time.

"I love your room too, great music taste," Phoebe whispered, looking back at the poster wall.

"I'm glad you think so." The two continued looking at each other still not saying anything, Punk had no idea why he invited Phoebe to crash here for a few hours, who was he to her anyway? Who was she to him? They barely knew each other and Punk knew that Phoebe's heart belonged to someone else's, it was no secret that she was still crushing on Dolph and he saw the look in her eyes whenever he caught her looking at him. Could Punk even class Phoebe as her friend, could Phoebe do the same?

"I'm gonna go, get some sleep. You know, thanks so much again." Phoebe walked past Punk and into the room next door, the walls were blank, completely opposite in appearance. Heaving a sigh Phoebe got changed into something comfortable, combing the wet, tangled knots that were in her hair and snuck into the bed. The window still cast some moonlight into the room but Phoebe lay awake, Punk was in the next room, probably not asleep, perhaps thinking.

Punk remained in the same spot, he hadn't spent a night in this room in ages, he wasn't planning on doing so, not for a long time at least; the room held too many memories. He noticed that his room now had an apple like scent, he hated to admit it but he did like it, he inhaled deeply and wondered how long Phoebe's scent would stay. He didn't like staying in his room for long and decided on closing the door behind him and returned back to Colt's room.

"Hey, you're back, you find her?"

_"Player 2 has now entered the game."_

"Yeah she was in my room, she's gone to bed," Punk needed to distraction, the game was a perfect distraction. It was WWE 10, Colt would play as Punk and Punk would play as Colt Cabana, it was something they had always done whenever Punk had returned home from the road, it was tradition.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'll get over it," Colt was worried, he had heard this many times and so had Punk's family, he was just wondering when Punk would actually _get over it_ and _mean it_.

Colt heaved a sigh of desperation, "Whatever you say Phil."

Phoebe stirred in sleep, realising it was time to wake up her eyes slowly fluttered open, morning sunlight casted a warm yellow glow into the room. She drew back the covers and regretted it the moment she did, she slowly stood and climbed out of bed, muttering a curse word or two as she realised how cold it was. The window hadn't even been open, _maybe this was how Punk stayed awake at night, way too cold to sleep._ She made her way towards the and winced as she came into contact with the light. Letting her eyes adjust she realised that she had a wonderful view of Wicker Park. The shops, the people, the scenery above and beyond.

She looked back at the bed she had slept in, she was longing for more sleep and more warmth even though she felt more refreshed than when she was at the airport. It was the end of April, the coldness and the windiness of Chicago would soon be leaving, and replaced by sunny spells. The room was warm and comfortable but she remembered how chilly it was when she had arrived in Chicago late the night before. She was so tired and she could barely keep my eyes open. It had been a blur and she realised how glad she was that Punk was there to offer her accommodation. She was glad she decided to put aside her differences, she felt like a considerable amount of weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Yawning and stretching, she quickly checked the time to see that she was still on schedule and changed out of the clothes she slept in, she hadn't heard any noise from Punk or Colt, it was a fairly big house and there was no sign of either two that were awake. Having brushed her teeth and changed into a dress with a cardigan she padded outside of the room barefoot, hoping to see if either one was awake. She suddenly felt nervous, embarrassed even. In an hour's time she would have to be making her way towards the airport. Did she want to leave? No she wanted to hang around with CM Punk? _Why?_ She had no idea, soon Colt would leave and so would she, and yet again Punk would be alone with his thoughts.

Phoebe made sure not to make any noise as she tiptoed down the stairs, it was a long staircase but it was stunning all the same. She was still in fascination of everything she could see, she realised that she had missed a couple of things that she hasn't noticed last night, propping her suitcase by the front door she heard noises in the kitchen.

"I _hate_ bacon!"

"How can you hate bacon?! It's _amazing!_"

"Phoebe please tell Punk that bacon is amazing?"

"I'm not really a fan of bacon, sorry," Phoebe squeaked, growing shy. She had never spoke to Colt, he was an attractive man, he sitting at the table with his jean clad legs propped up on another chair, he was muscular with short hair and he was nibbling on some bacon bits, Phoebe's stomach turned.

"Hi," she spoke, peaking up at Punk.

"Hey, erm help yourself, I have bread, eggs, _bacon_, fruit, granola, coffee …" Punk's voice faltered as he sipped on his own cup of coffee. Phoebe made her way towards the coffee pot murmuring thanks and she placed some bread into the toaster.

"This is Scott by the way, in case you didn't know, Colt Cabana, Mr Jew, Scotty Goldman," Phoebe giggled, she perched herself on a stool.

"I know, we've met," Phoebe cleared her throat, remembering the last time she had come to Chicago to see Punk, the memory still stung, "I listen to Art of Wrestling."

"You do?" Scott's smile was infectious, it made Phoebe blush furiously, she turned to look at Punk who narrowed his eyes at the two.

"So you need a ride to the airport?" Punk asked.

"No, no, I'll get a cab, it's fine."

"I can take you," Colt offered, Punk immediately stepped in and spoke, teeth gritted, "No, that's okay, I'll take her."

"She might _feel_ more comfortable if I take her."

"Who's she, your neighbour's mum's cat? I have a name," Phoebe didn't understand what was going on, was there something she didn't know?

Colt and Punk both smirked at her, "You sleep well last night?"

"Yes, wish I could've slept for longer," Phoebe sighed, sipping on her coffee, she turned to look at Punk who was staring at her intently, her cheeks heating in the process.

"Well, welcome to Chicago Phoebe, hope you like it this time," Punk's eyebrows scrunched together, confused what Colt meant.

She extended a hand towards him, instead he pulled her into a hug, "It was nice meeting you Scott, especially in the flesh."

"I'm gonna, get going. I've got work to do in Stamford so," Phoebe stood up from the counter top and Punk followed her, eyeing Colt suspiciously. She grabbed all of her suitcase and laptop bag, making sure she had everything and made her way out of the door and into the garage. Punk had a number of cars, a collection much like his collection of figurines. Phoebe had only spent a few hours at Punk's house and it was only to crash and she somehow felt sad, she had no intention of leaving. She wanted to stay, she was growing to like the company of Punk and Colt.

"What did Scott mean?"

"What did Scott mean when?"

"You know, when he said, _this time_, what happened, _last time_?"

"Oh." Phoebe swallowed, "I'm not sure you want to know, Punk. It doesn't even matter."

"_Tell me._" Phoebe squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, nerved by Punk's gaze.

"The first time I came to Chicago, was to see you, and my intention were simply to tell you about_ Amy_, you didn't want to listen so, you know," Phoebe spared Punk the details, his face paled and he turned away from her. From then on the two were silent, Punk remembered very clearly now, it was raining that day. He had thrown her out, _into the rain_.

**_"My desire is that you leave me alone, my desire, is that you fuck off out of my life," he spoke through gritted teeth, pulling harder, tightening his grip. He ignored Phoebe's attempts to escape his grasp and the slight whimpers and squeaks. "I want you to listen to me very carefully. You are not my friend, you never will be. You're my assistant, and that is all you'll ever be – if I want something, I'll tell you and when I tell you to leave me alone, you fucking do it. When I say I don't need you, I fucking mean it."  
They reached the end of the stairs and Punk kicked open the building's main entrance door, grabbing hold of Phoebe's waist he flung her outside, he watched as her body hit the concrete and the rain pummelled onto her, soaking every inch of her body.  
"See you Monday, cunt."_**

Phoebe hadn't even realised how quick the journey was until Punk pulled up outside the terminal.

"Terminal 3, right?" Phoebe nodded. Punk's voice was hoarse, he couldn't even look at her, he opened his side door and took Phoebe's stuff out of the car, she remained seated in his car, unable to move, _what was happening? _

Punk knocked on the car window, stunned she pushed the door open and got out, _this was it_.

"Thanks Punk, this meant a lot."

"It's fine, take care."

"We'll see each other soon."

"Yeah, sure." Punk needed to get out of there, he felt physically sick, disgusted, the two nodded, exchanging awkward eye glances – they weren't at a stage to comfortably hug or even shake hands, she flashed him a small smile and grabbed all of her things, Punk stood watching as she looked smaller and smaller, until eventually she disappeared into the airport. Swallowing hard, he felt a whole emerging inside of him, a dull void that never disappeared.

He was a broken man, who had broken other people.


	21. Chapter 21

**BATTLEGROUND IS ON TONIGHT, HOLY SHIT, hope you're all excited! PUNK, ORTON, AXEL, AJ, RHODES FAMILY, DOLPH i want them all to win :) here's an update, i hope the waits aren't too long sorry :( I ALSO HOPE this chapter doesn't disappoint, have fun tonight guys :)**

Chicago welcomed Punk with open arms. It wasn't cold like it usually was and by keeping himself busy every day his mind didn't focus on Amy, or Phoebe. Colt kept on questioning what was actually going on between the two of them, but honestly he had no idea himself. He wasn't looking for a relationship or love, he just couldn't stand the thought of suffering alone in silence. There were ballgames and hockey games he went to with Chaleen, Colt, Natalie, whoever was available. He planned on getting his tattoos retouched and he had some gigs to go late at night. It felt good to be away from the WWE, the lights, cameras and screaming fans. He had been craving this break for a while now and with Extreme Rules this Sunday, it was an absolute necessity that he was in tip top shape.

_"You're gonna run 6 miles?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I bet I can beat you by riding my bike."_

_"You're gonna bike 6 miles while I run?"_

_"Did I fucking stutter?"_

_"You're on banana."_

An hour later and the two lay sprawled side by side, heaving and out of breathe, Punk had pushed Colt to the limit since he had taking the lead and thought he'd make him suffer by running up the steeper hills just outside Wicker Park.

_"Fuck you, Punk."_

_"You're out of shape, you bastard."_

_"I'm sexy and chiselled, admit it."_

_"Never."_

A full day had been dedicated to working out with Colt then later they had planned to see him at work, he never got to see his bud wrestle live and truth be told he missed going to the indie shows, sure the scent of alcohol and sweat suffocated him and the other wrestlers, but the independent scene was were his heart was. Even though Punk beat Colt he was still aching all over, his thighs and shins throbbing with every step he took. The two briskly walked back to Colt's place where he had gotten his wrestling gear, it was reaching 7 and it was time to make their way to the wrestling gymnasium. A long line had formed and Punk felt a sense of pride for his best friend, a smile quipping as they had walked round to the back where Colt Cabana would get into character and wrestle mode.

After the show, the two had met up to meet Chaleen and her boyfriend after work, it was 11pm and the four of them were famished. There was only one place, Ciao Bella Pizza. The cute, rustic pizza house was literally around the corner, with less than 5 small tables it gave that home like feeling as if you were actually in an Italian pizza house, being smothered with love. The smell of cheese bubbling, tangy tomato sauce brewing and freshly kneaded dough wafted throughout the entire mini restaurant and the pizzas were made in an open clay oven, giving it the unique taste. Punk and his friends had been coming here for over a decade, it was practically tradition to come here whenever he was home.

The group had strolled in, there was no point looking at the menu and the waiter had already recognised the 4 of them sitting around the table.

"1 Pepsi's, 2 Coke's and a glass of Mountain Dew for the lovely lady?" the waiter winked at Chaleen who shivered when she felt his intense gaze on her.

"_Yes_," Punk spoke through gritted teeth. The waiter took the hint and waddled back to the kitchen. The four of them exchanged random chit chat, they were all going to be at Extreme Rules this year since it was being held in Chicago. The recent outburst of Jericho blaming Punk's sister of being a drug addict had led to all three of Punk's sisters to constantly harass him as to what was going on with the storylines. He had set aside his differences with Jericho and the two had begun to work together with Phoebe to create an even more enticing storyline plot, initially he had livid and against the idea completely, but the fans were loving it.

The drinks had arrived and soon they ordered pizza, Punk, Colt and Shaun, Chaleen's boyfriend shared a meat feast pizza while Chaleen stuck to a vegetarian personal, as there orders were being made Punk noticed that they were the only customers in the restaurant. _Odd_. His head whipped back round when he heard new customers flocking into the place,a couple of guys, 2 girls, Punk took no notice until he started choking on his Pepsi.

He remembered that … Mexican skull tattoo that adorned a well-toned arm, brunette hair flowed elegantly as a draft swept into the restaurant. _Why the fuck was she here? She wouldn't dare enter __**this**__restaurant? The restaurant where they had their first __**date**__?_ She hadn't yet noticed him and the other's hadn't noticed her either, considering the banter on the table was getting loud. Punk didn't even recognise the male but she had her arm snaked around someone, _that fucking asshole_. _Matt._ Initially Punk didn't know how to react, he was feeling livid and anger was surging through his veins. Violently knocking back his chair he marched his way over towards the pair, he was completely unnerved by his surroundings and before he knew it his fist connected with Matt's jaw. This was the first time he had seen both of them since the wedding, he hadn't seen them since he had witnessed that _god awful video_. Not once did he think to go back and confront them, give them a piece of his mind.

"How dare you, fucking come in here, _with her_?" Punk yelled as he continued throwing punches, he had now straddled Matt on the floor and saw how weak he had made Matt. _Because that was what he was, weak._

_He remembered the way Matt's hands had explored Amy's body, pecking her skin as if she was delicate like glass, he could never forget the way she moaned at his touch, the way she reacted to Matt's actions. How her body shuddered and pleaded for more. The moans rang in his head like a siren -_

"You fucking bastard, you stupid, fucking bastard. I hate you, I fucking hate you, I hate you and I hate – that – bitch!"

"Phil stop it! You're hurting him, he's bleeding, STOP!" He felt soft hands trying to heave himself off of him, _no fucking way. _

"Get away from me you bitch! This is your fault! This is all your fault! Tell me, did you two enjoy the honeymoon!?" Punk had started frothing at the mouth, feeling the blood rushing to his head, he was beyond angry, he was almost close to –

"Stop Phil, you're gonna kill him!"

"He's not worth it Phil!" Amy no longer spoke, it was Colt. He was much stronger and was able to pull him off Matt, Punk still fought the hold that Colt had over him until all 3 of them had to haul him away. As soon as he was out of reach Amy sunk down to the ground, running a hand over Matt's face.

"Matt, baby?" A groan escaped his lips, _I should've killed him_, Punk thought darkly. Amy glared daggers at Punk and he reciprocated. Why the fuck was she mad at him? What the fuck had he done? _She _was the one that slept with another man, _she _was the one that broke him, _she _was the one that broke him.

"I hope you're fucking happy Phil," she spat bitterly at him.

"HAPPY? HAPPY? YOU THINK I'M HAPPY, YOU DUMB BITCH!"

"Phil calm down – " Phil ignored Chaleen's attempts to calm him down, that only fuelled him more.

"I haven't been happy since our _beautiful wedding dear_. I haven't been happy for a long time, I am breaking inside every day I can't believe you even had the nerve of walking in here today, does this place mean _anything_ to you?"

"Not anymore Phil."

Punk turned towards the door, shrugging the protective arms of his family, he felt the bile rising up in his throat, his chest constricting as he inhaled in attempts to calm down. As his hand reached the cold door handle he turned back to look at his ex-wife standing vulnerable and alone.

"Fuck you, Amy."

Phoebe had returned to her new home for a couple of days, she had been redrafting scripts and she still managed time to relax, she was alone for the most part however she relished the silence and the calmness that she had for the last couple of day. Eventually her short time away from the entire dog and pony show had come to an end, Sunday had rolled around and she felt incredibly giddy. The atmosphere at a pay-per-view were always incredible, the electricity and the intensity would soon be absorbed by the superstars which would ultimately create the most memorable matches. She also realised that she would soon be in Chicago again, the journey to the city itself had taken little to no time and she was soon greeted by the chilliness. She checked into a nearby hotel, the one that the entire WWE cast would be staying at, oddly enough she didn't run into any of the wrestlers that were staying. Assuming they were all at the arena she decided to reside in her room for a while, resting her head on the hotel bed.

Phoebe's phone buzzed for the 5th time, her eyes flickered open and she groaned as she felt as though she had hardly any sleep, the phone had buzzed for the 6th time and she finally decided to pick it up.

"Hello?" She spoke groggily.

"Where the fuck are you?"

"_Stephanie_?"

"You were supposed to be hear an hour ago, the show starts in less than two hours!" Stephanie began hurling abuse at Phoebe and she soon realised that she had fallen asleep, embarrassed she slipped on her heels and ran a quick brush through her hair. She checked her make up and until she was satisfied.

"Steph, I'm grabbing a cab _right now_," her phone rested against her shoulder blade as hse multitasked while making her way towards an elevator.

"Just hurry up!" Stephanie eventually put the phone down on her, she understood that she was under a lot of stressed and grinned at the impatience in Steph's voice, _it was so unlike her_. As she went to press the ground floor button she saw a hand push the elevator doors back open.

_Punk._

Phoebe noticed the look of surprise that washed over him and nodded curtly as he turned his back to her, an awkward silence filtered the elevated room and she realised that something had to be up. _Should she ask what was wrong, was that even her place? _He did offer her a place to stay when she needed it most, the two hadn't seen each other since then and she wondered what was on his mind to make him so quiet.

"Hey," she spoke softly, initially her smooth voice had startled him until he gave in and turned towards her.

"Hey. How's your jaw, I forgot to ask last time we spoke, hope it still doesn't hurt?"

"It's much better, thank you. You sure know how to pack a punch," she chuckled, placing a hand on her chin.

"Low blow, no pun intended." He smirked.

The two grinned, now standing side by side she realised that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes, "I don't mean to pry Punk, but is something wrong?"

"No, what makes you say that?" Punk snapped, Phoebe noticed the anger that flared in his eyes, as the elevator doors opened to the second floor, she decided on making a break for it, it was probably best to take the stairs to the ground floor alone.

"Phoebe, wait –"

"No Punk, it's fine, sorry I asked." She shouted, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

"Phoebe would you slow down?" She carried on speed walking as fast as she could, knowing Punk was faster she quickened her pace.

"I .. ran into Amy." The clacking of her heels against the marble staircase came to a halt, the sound continued echoing until the words hit her, _goddamn_.

She slowly turned around, he looked exasperated and tired, paler and thinner. The week away was supposed to have done him some good, however she noticed in effect it had done the total opposite. She moved closer to see his eyes were nearing to bloodshot, she bit the inside of her cheek, her own tears threatening to fall. She had never seen a man so hurt, never seen Punk react this way. It was completely alien and Phoebe knew what was going through his mind, exactly the same thoughts, exactly the same emotions. But this wasn't about her, it was about him.

"How do you feel Punk?" Her voice was quiet, neither of them had seem to notice but her hands were placed on his arms that continued to shake in anger. This seemed to have calmed him down and eventually he began to spoke, his breath shaky.

"Like shit. Angry. Worthless. Humiliated. I can physically feel a gaping hole inside of me, I feel like _that bitch_ has stabbed me repeatedly and then has the fucking nerve to flaunt her new dumb relationship in my face. I feel like such an i_diot,_ I feel like I shouldn't even give a shit, I mean why should I? It's her loss, if anything, I feel bad for Matt I mean, she's probably a cheating whore and she's probably going to cheat on Matt, you know. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Like, is there something wrong with me? I feel like there's something wrong with me, I mean why else would she cheat? Did I not love her enough? What did I do wrong? Hey, why are you crying?"

Phoebe wiped the single tear off her face, cautious she smudged her make-up.

"Punk I guarantee you never did anything wrong."

"But you said ..," Punk swallowed hard, "she cheated on me because I don't give a crap about anybody but myself." Phoebe felt disgusted, her skin whitened and she knew that she wasn't in her right mind to say such a thing.

"Punk, you and I said a lot of things to each other. But seeing you here, right now, proves just how much you loved her. Proves just how much you wanted to be with her. She broke the relationship, she was weak and gave into temptation. I know she was your first love Punk, but fuck her. She screwed you over, I know she did, I – I know how that feels, " Punk eyed her with confusion however she continued to speak.

"You're not going to get over her over night, but over time I promise you will find a woman who will love you the same way you love her, you'll trust her and maybe she'll give you everything you've ever wanted. You'll share a wonderful life together and love each other unconditionally. You'll never stop thinking about her, the way she smiles, the way she looks at you. Punk, she's out there. You've got to stop thinking about Amy Punk, and move on."

Punk was left breathless, Phoebe bit her lip and backed away. The silence was filled with Punk's heavy breathing, he was blown away, 2 weeks ago he could've sworn that Phoebe would never talk to him again. He wanted to believe everything she said, he wondered where this was all coming from, why was she even telling him all of this. She _meant_ every word she spoke, it ignited something inside him that he couldn't quite explain.

"I can't believe I said those things to you, again I'm so sorry. They were so unlike me." She shied away, incredibly embarrassed.

"That's behind us now, you're right, we did say things we never meant. I can't believe I just dumped all this shit on you, I didn't mean to, I don't know why I did," he scoffed, running a hand through his un-jelled hair, Phoebe noticed how soft it actually looked.

"I understand 100%, Punk you shouldn't be suffering alone I mean, you're away from your family for almost the entire year, you need to vent and you know, it's okay to cry."

"I don't _fucking _cry."

"Woah, I didn't mean to touch a nerve there," Punk grinned as she playfully held her hands up in defeat. "I know how hard it can be, I know how worthless and humiliated you feel, I can tell you feel lonely you might deny it but I can tell. Isolating yourself when you already feel isolated isn't the solution, Punk."

"Was it me?"

"Was what you?"

"Was it me that made you feel those things?"

Phoebe waited before she answered, Punk felt impatient as she paused for a couple of moments, "You made me feel _things_, but no I wouldn't go that far."

"Then how the _fuck_ do you know anything about how I'm _feeling_?"

"I just .. do. That's another story for another time, look," Phoebe turned to her purse, fishing out a pen and a scrap piece of paper, Punk watched her intently as she scribbled down something and gingerly handed it to him. It was her_ number. _He admired the handwriting, even though it was a couple of digits, until he looked up when he heard her spoke again.

"Just promise me whenever you're feeling the worst, worse than you're feeling now, and you feel like doing something that you _know_ that you shouldn't do or … or if you ever need to talk, vent anything, then call me or text. I'll listen to you." She noticed his eyes widen, and mentally slapped herself. _You hardly know him, why would he want your number_. She feared that he'd scrunch it up, throw it back in her face and sneer, sneer like he used to …

"This means .. so much. Thank you, I'll make sure to do that," relieved Phoebe gave him a smile, noticing how much more relaxed he looked around her.

"Listen I gotta go, Stephanie is going _insane_. Good luck tonight with _Jericho_," she winked, he watched as she scurried away lightly jogging towards the stairs, he looked down at the piece of paper once again, skimming the numbers written on it, oblivious to the smile that crept across his face.


	22. Chapter 22

**hope you like the update, not sure if things have escalated rather quickly, i'll leave it up to you guys to decide, review/favourite/follow guys you're all great, I love the suggestions from you guys, they help so much, love you :)**

Punk jumped into the crowd after the match, Punk and Jericho made sure they put up a killer match – announce tables had been destroyed, flying elbow drop was perfectly executed, Walls of Jericho crushing Punk's back. Sweat had become a second skin to them and it had soaked the mat they wrestled on. Fire extinguisher foam had also been blasted in places, Phoebe's idea, Punk was adamant however it wasn't being used on him, and was glad as he saw bruises forming all over the veteran's face. There were chairs, broken kendo stick and Jericho's body lying sprawled in the middle of the ring. Punk reeked of sweat and his ribs throbbed violently, however _he won_ and he just had one of the most exhilarating matches of his life. The feeling was indescribable, he just soaked it all in.

**You awake? **– _Punk_

**Erm yeah? Who is this?** – _Phoebe_

**Shit, sorry it's Punk** _– Punk_

**Oh hey, yeah I'm awake, great match Punk, you and Chris were amazing! **– _Phoebe_

**Thanks, my body fucking hurts though **– _Punk_

**How you feeling, asides from the pain? **– _Phoebe_

**I'm doing okay, can't sleep though, what about you? **_– Punk_

**Ah yes, the rumours about the insomniac are true J You really should get some sleep, considering the night you just had, why aren't you out celebrating with everyone? **– _Phoebe_

**Love not sleeping, didn't you hear, I believe the rumours are that I'm Batman! Oh because it's not really my scene, not in the mood either tonight, why aren't ****_you_**** celebrating? – **_Punk_

**Why would I be celebrating? I don't know the people on the roster well enough, except Dolph and he's with his girlfriend. You're Batman? Beats Christian Bale to be honest ;)** – _Phoebe_

**What room are you in? **– _Punk_

**Erm, 724? Why do you want to know what room I'm in? **– _Phoebe_

The replies had been almost instant however it had been at least 2 minutes since Punk had replied to this one, Phoebe tossed her phone onto the mountain of pillows and stretched the stiffness from her body. Sure she hadn't been wrestling but pay-per-view nights were tiring for everyone, she had been feeling incredibly tense in the hopes of tonight running as smoothly as possible. She was immediately startled when she heard a knock at the door, she checked the peephole before opening confused as to why Punk was stood sheepishly on the other side.

Opening the door, she raised an eyebrow, "Hey."

"Hi. Can I come in?"

"What are you doing here Punk?" Phoebe couldn't hold back the irritation from her voice as Punk walked in, unusually quiet.

"I wasn't disturbing you was I? I just assumed we could hang out, I thought neither of us were doing anything and I didn't think you wanted to be alone, I just acted upon impulse and I was bored out of my **mind**," Phoebe felt a pang of guilt and gave a small smile.

"Shut up, of course you can stay. I was getting pretty bored too. I just, I don't know, we've never really hung and I don't know you that well. Seriously though, why aren't you out celebrating. You should go out and have fun."

"No, I'm in too much pain to go out, I'm getting old. You've just been so incredibly nice considering - " Phoebe didn't like to be reminded, however she let him carry on, "I mean I figured we could hang out now, it's okay, I can just go I don't give a shit really, I don't know, like – I thought we could do something, I don't know, I was being stupid," Punk played with the hair, making his way back towards the door.

Phoebe smirked at him, "Don't be silly, we're friends, we can hang out, sorry for being so rude, sorry. You're cute, I know what **you're** into I mean, even though we never really talked I remember you making me get you certain comics when you were in too much pain to buy them yourself. I remember disturbing you half way through horror movies and when you used to block me out, with your music, you used to put it on so loud I could hear all the lyrics crystal clear."

Phoebe tried to laugh it off but Punk was still feeling increasingly uneasy, "Punk, it's okay."

"Okay? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Punk, don't make this harder than it already is, it was hard at first but people deal with pain differently, I look back at that shit and just laugh it off, it's just who I am, what I've always done. I'm sorry if that's made you feel uncomfortable." Punk stared at the floor, shuffling his feet.

"So I've got Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Shining and Halloween, you wanna pick or shall I?" Punk's eyes shot up to look at the DVD's displayed on her bed, confusion rippling inside of him. "You wanted to hang, we're both into horror, so come on?"

"Erm, Halloween sounds good." Punk replied still slightly flustered from the random notion to watch films, only hours ago he was just wrestling at a pay-per-view, now he was making himself comfortable on Phoebe's bed.

"Just what I was thinking," Phoebe replied with a smile.

A couple of minutes passed by as Phoebe set up the movie, fiddling with the DVD player, "I could really do with some popcorn," she sighed.

"I could go get some if you like?"

"No it's good, I bought like 20 packets, I can't watch a film without popcorn and I have a stack of DVD's with me, movies are how I pass the time whenever I'm on the road so…"

She made her way towards the bed and plopped herself on, extending her legs and propping the pillow so she had something soft to lean on, Punk sat inches away from her. She had to admit it, this was strange, different, but she was growing to like it. She had a sudden realisation of how much she had missed someone's company, Nick had been so busy and infatuated with Amy she just felt herself drifting apart from him it had almost come as a shock. However she quickly got over it, her new companion ship with Punk was the last thing she thought would ever happen yet here they were relaxed on their hotel bed ready to settle on a classic horror movie.

"Phoebe I know you hate talking about this, but you have to know that I wish I had started things differently with you. I underestimated you, and I just feel like such a bastard, I don't think I'll get over it. I just, I guess that's why I want to be your friend so much. I know I'm a jerk and an asshole but it was completely unjustified with you, you're just too fucking nice and I don't know how to go about it. Honestly, I'd normally just avoid you but you've helped me, a lot."

She had felt overwhelmed by his words and was ultimately touched, there wasn't a day that went by were Phoebe thought about Punk's harsh treatments towards her, "You've been through a lot this year Punk and so have I so I'd love a friend right now. I try all the time to forget about what had happened between us at first, because even though you were so _mean_, I knew it wasn't you. I saw how you were to the guys, to Kelly, AJ and Eve, you were just so nice. I thought there was something wrong with me, you know?"

"Stop, of course there wasn't. It was all me."

"Well we know _that_," Phoebe giggled, turning her attention to the film. "Punk, I'd like to forget about me even being your assistant, because we've progressed so much since last year, we're both at the top, I admire you as a wrestler, always have, always will. You're my friend, so don't fret about the past and focus on the now."

"Hope I didn't scare you when I texted you?" Punk smirked when he noticed Phoebe's phone.

"A head's up would've helped. Seriously though, you were fucking amazing tonight."

"Thanks Phoebe, your idea for the last minute sketch with Chaleen and Jericho was great, she loved it."

The two shared a smile before they truly got into the film, all tension and awkwardness seemed to have been eradicated, laughing and jumping whenever she got scared. Punk noticed how into horror's she was, considering she was a writer he was surprised to see she wasn't as critical, she enjoyed and appreciated the classics. They shared a bowl of salted popcorn while Punk slurped on a can of Pepsi, it was only natural.

"Is Halloween your favourite horror movie?" She spoke feeling slightly awkward when a sex scene had come on.

"Hell yeah! I used to sneak downstairs at night and me and my brother would put it on, really quiet and we'd sit and watch it in the dark, we were like 9 or something. You?"

"Nope, Texas Chainsaw Massacre," she grinned.

"They're bringing a new one out next year."

"I'm not so keen on remakes," Phoebe groaned, thinking to himself that he was exactly the same, it had to be an original or nothing at all.

"You and your brother huh? Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"You've not spoken to him in like 10 years?" Phoebe watched Punk intently, hoping she hadn't struck a nerve. She noticed how his eyes grew wide with excitement when he had just told her about watching Halloween as a child.

"Longer than that probably, he screwed me over, you know. I don't forgive and forget that easily."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity, I believe everything happens for a reason, he probably would've held me back and I never would have gotten here you know? It taught me not to put so much faith into people."

Phoebe swallowed, knowing he was talking about Amy as well as his brother, from the corner of her eye she noticed the credits roll up. "What about you what's your story?"

"I don't have one, really."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious, I mean I had a mom and dad and a brother, weren't close … at all. My brother and I only bonded over wrestling. It was strange like, it was like I didn't even feel like I belong in my own family. I'm pretty boring - I've been pretty much on my own my whole -" she stopped talking until she realised how deep she had gone into conversation and felt the sudden dull ache in her chest and remembered who she was talking to. Punk and her and become new acquaintances but she didn't want to break down her walls or give him any more reasons to think she was a loner, because it was the truth.

Punk gazed at her with intent hoping she'd carry on, he saw pain and anguish in her eyes as she lingered on the last word. "Phoebe, it's okay."

Brushing it off quickly, she stood and composed herself, "Up for another film?"

"We don't have to…"

"But I want too." She snapped, glaring at him. Punk was taken aback but wondered if Phoebe also had trust issues, and whether she had said any of this to Dolph in greater detail. She had her back turned towards him but felt his eyes boring into her. When she returned back to her bed, Punk's eyes were still on her.

"Remember when you said "**promise me whenever you're feeling the worst, worse than you're feeling now, and you feel like doing something that you ****_know_**** that you shouldn't do or … or if you ever need to talk, vent anything, then call me or text. I'll listen to you**" I want you to know that the same reciprocated."

She smiled, "You're sweet. This was the Punk I knew existed underneath all this "oh I'm an asshole that doesn't like anyone"."

"I _am_ an asshole and I _don't_ like anyone."

"Shut up," Phoebe giggled, she had chosen the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, they had ordered in a pizza since they were starving, it had been a while since either of them had seen the film, the gore and the pints of blood nearly had their stomach's turning. To their disappointment the film had ended too sooner than they'd hoped. Punk wondered about what Phoebe had said earlier, the thought of her being alone for so long had been left imprinted in his brain and had concerned him.

"I better go, I probably won't but I should let you get some sleep, it _is_ 2:30 am."

"They're all probably out partying still, the night is still young," Phoebe yawned, stretching her arms. "I was a bit sceptical about this evening, thanks for coming over."

"Thanks for having me, I'm glad you let me stay I would've felt like such a dumb fuck if you hadn't. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable earlier you can trust me you know."

"You're not the only one with trust issues you know." That got Punk thinking even more, he didn't think she was going to elaborate but saw the look of sadness in her smile.

"Goodnight Phoebe."

"Night Punk." She replied before closing the door. Phoebe strode towards the bed, tidying the pizza boxes and empty Pepsi cans, cursing herself as she still felt embarrassed about talking about her family. No one had ever asked, not even Nick, she had noticed Punk had gotten increasingly nosey with her and close, she didn't know how to feel about it if she was being perfectly honest. Only two people in her life had chosen to take an interest in her, it felt almost alien to her. She was the one that helped others, she was the one people asked advice from. What was Punk's game? Was he even playing a game?

Throughout the two films she felt incredibly comfortable, she had been craving company for so long, she suddenly felt grateful that Punk took the effort to come and visit her, considering he had just wrestled and then again the next day. She looked at the crumpled sheets that her and Punk had lazily lounged watching the two films. A smile grew on her face as she wrapped the duvet around her preparing for sleep, it still felt war, the smell of Punk drifting into her nostrils.

Punk wondered back into his room, after an intense and gruelling night it felt good to just chill and watch films, he hadn't had a relaxed night like that in ages, no talk about work just simple good fun watching films and eating pizza. It had brought a smile to Punk's face, and he instantly felt stupid. He had isolated himself from his friends for too long, the separation from Amy had caused him to snap at his friends who weren't taking any of his shit. Punk knew they eventually gave up on him and got bored from trying, no one had truly realised how hard the last couple of months had been. He knew it wasn't the case, but he felt like no one _cared_. Yet tonight Phoebe confirmed that this wasn't the case, he was willing to forget everything that had happened and just learn to enjoy himself again.

The night had passed and the pain had gotten increasingly worse, especially in his knees and lower back region, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and just about managed to roll out of bed. Remembering the highlights of last night had got him grinning and he felt good about ending the night in that way. He dragged himself into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror examining the bruises from last night. He ran a hand over his face feeling his stubble growing back again, he hated shaving it and wished sometimes he could just do a Daniel Bryan. He studied his reflection in the mirror, noticing some weight loss around his midsection. He had been on countless juice fasts and turned vegetarian, added more cardio to his workout, hoping to lose a couple of pounds. Punk foolishly thought that it was his appearance that had resulted to Amy cheating on him, that explained partly why he decided on taking extra care for himself. He eventually realised that was fucking stupid, anger still surged through his veins whenever he thought about her. _I should be over her by now_.

Turning his attention back to the mirror, he had really hoped to have done better than this; realising the baby fat on his stomach. _It just wasn't worth it_, he grumbled to himself. He had even limited himself to one slice of pizza last night, considering he had hardly eaten at all. Sighing, his eyes trailed up towards his hair, tuffs of it sticking out in random places, he contemplated on whether it needed shaving or not.

Stripping down his shorts he jumped into the shower, the warm water cascading over him, he felt the stiffness ease off slightly. He grabbed the shampoo bottle and splurged some into his hair, quickly he lathered and felt more awake as the smell reached his nostrils. After scrubbing himself he washed the shampoo from out of his hair and stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself. He already felt his body growing worse in pain as he remembering that he would most likely have to wrestle tonight.

Just as he was about to change, someone had rang the doorbell to his hotel room, he strode towards it confused as to who was awake at 7:00am, everyone he knew was sleeping off the alcohol or just probably still drunk. Furrowing his eyebrows he flung the door open seeing Phoebe awkwardly waiting.

There were no words and she felt her mouth dry up and she took in the sight, his tattoos were even more prominent and water droplets had speckled his skin, and he smelt _so good_. His wear was pretty wet but every inch of him oozed sex and, the towel that rode loosely on his hips had done it for her. She had no idea what had come over her, she pushed Punk aggressively into the room slamming the door behind her. She savagely attacked his lips, tasting fresh toothpaste on his tongue. She ripped the towel off his body and admired his length poking at her inner thigh. All the breath in her throat had gone and she admired his physique, his **thighs **were her favourite part of him. She wanted to grab them, kiss, trace her tongue all over that area. She moaned in appreciation and ran her hands all over his skin, warm and soft from the shower he had just took. Punk loved the way her hands felt on him, it was killing him that she wasn't touching his arousal. Instantaneously he flipped her over so he was on top, her eyes grew wide as he licked his lips, feasting his eyes upon the petite girl that was sprawled on his bed, _he was going to devour her_. His lips reached hers one again, this time his tongue caressed hers slowly and painfully. He made sure he tasted her well enough, he would rather kiss her forever than breath he was in awe of her.

He eventually let go and the two both felt there lips tingling in delight, it was his turn for him to explore her light olive toned skin, his touch so gentle Phoebe pushed her hips, circling them around him, the tip already moist from pre-cum. She had grown hot and was yearning for Punk to touch her** there****_. _**He trailed a line of wet kisses along her jawline, his hand rested on her slender stomach. Goosebumps rising from every touch, every hot shaky breath.

"Punk –" He knew what she wanted and he had her waiting, his fingers playfully tiptoed to the bottom of her jeans and unbuttoned them, she shivered as he attacked her neck, nipping and sucking, taking it bare into his teeth, his other hand, palming and massaging her breast. He slowly slid down the fly, so slow she cried out in frustration, he swatted her hand away when she went down to do it herself, the zipper had reached the end and Punk took notice of small bit of a material that he could see not bothering to shimmy herself out of the jeans Punk's hand slid inside, feeling the moisture all over his fingers. He grinned at her reaction, her eyes crewed shut, her mouth open wide he knew he could slip in his cock at any moment. His fingers slowly circled and she grabbed the sheets beneath her, knuckles growing white Phoebe felt herself so close, he quickened his pace and Phoebe felt intense sensations taking over her body. Punk cooed and urged her, _cum for my baby, cum_.

He watched her with an intense, seductive gaze, her teeth bit into her swollen pink lips, he had never seen something more sexy in his life. Eventually Punk felt the walls tighten, Phoebe's breath had become low and shaky instead of quiet little whines, a tremor ran through her body and she gasped, arching her back. Punk's fingers were covered in her cum and Phoebe still wasn't done. The passion inside of her only grew and she felt like her heart pace quicken as she looked deeply into Punk's hazel green eyes. This wasn't just lust, it was –

"Phoebe?"

She leaned against the doorframe, her whole body gave way, her legs had given up on her, luckily Punk caught Phoebe as she stumbled into his arms.

"Phoebe are you okay, you look like you're thinking about something?" she looked around the room realising she had just imagined her steamy daydream. Embarrassed she slowly composed herself, straightening her blouse, she cleared her throat, clearing her mind of any sexual desires that ran through her mind.

"I'm fine," she squeaked, her face had grown hot, she literally wanted to rip the towel away from Punk's waist but decided to step from out of his embrace. _What the fuck was that_, Phoebe thought. When she turned back around to face him he had thrown on a Ramones shirt, she heaved a sigh, thankful he didn't have powers to read minds.

"You wanna tell me what you're doing here?"

"Yeah erm, I was wondering if you want to, erm – me and you want to get, mhm coffee?"

"Sure, let me just go put on some pants…" Punk raised an eyebrow at her, while he let the room Phoebe groaned in exasperation, she was completely taken aback what ahd just gone on in her head, sure Punk was hot but, seriously, _what the fuck_? She hadn't been with anyone since **him** and Punk was still clearly getting over Amy, why was she even considering this, she though bitterly. Her hands were still shaking, maybe it really had been too long –

"Come on," Punk grabbed his wallet and room card key, he eyed Phoebe curiously as she silently got up and followed him out the door.

He wasn't blind, he noticed the way Phoebe admired him, it almost made him glad he never put a shirt on before he answered the door – he wanted so badly to know what she was thinking to have gotten her so hot and bothered, a smile stretched across his face, _it was him that had gotten her like that_.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing." Punk smiled at her, inching closer as the two of them stepped into the elevator.


	23. Chapter 23

**new chapter, love you guys who review and suggest and favourite/follow my story, thank you so much :) enjoy**

"So I've noticed Kofi doesn't travel with you anymore."

"Yeah, we've not spoken in a while, maybe said hello a couple of times, I don't know. What about you and Dolph? You seem way too buddy-buddy to be "just friends, what's the deal with you two?"

Phoebe smacked her lips after taking a long sip of her coffee. "I don't see how that is any of your business."

"Tit for tat, princess." Punk smirked at her. Sighing Phoebe pushed aside her half eaten blueberry muffin, attempting to formulate an explanation to Punk.

"We're just friends, I mean, yeah I don't know if it was sexual tension but there was something definitely there once. But then you know, he's with Amy now and it's just awkward. They are always together and she just finished her tour in the US and it's just uncomfortable to be around the both of them now. I don't feel anything towards him but I just want my friend back sometimes. It's sad because we used to travel together, bunk and everything, not anymore. He was the only one who properly befriended me here and it's hard to get to know people in this environment, I'm not that sociable so – " There she went again, baring her soul, she cursed herself hoping Punk wouldn't ask any more questions.

"I guess that's partly my fault." Phoebe rolled her eyes, and Punk carried on.

"You're right though, it is hard. It's just like fucking high school, there are cliques and in their own group everyone's fucking gossips. I was the snotty, dirty indie fag, always have been and ever since I got that push from the pipebomb suddenly everyone wants to be my friend? Fuck no. What about in the creative department, I'm sure there … **someone**?"

"There so friendly, but way ahead of my time, like you said they're all in groups and they all know each other, if I made effort sure, but I guess keeping to myself is just so much easier. Some of the talent say hi but I'm okay. Jake always makes time to see me whenever I'm on the road to see if I'm okay, which I'm grateful for. Sometimes it's just easier alone."

"Alone?"

"Yeah, I mean, you weren't the only one that was mean to me here. A lot of people used to be _fucking_ horrible, you'd think it would be talent but once they saw new meat, they'd flip, it was insane. I love working here, I love the atmosphere but sometimes I really couldn't be arsed with those people and you know, I guess it was like you. Once Stephanie wanted to hire me, they'd all kiss my ass."

"What was Alberto like?"

Phoebe groaned, "Why are you asking me this?"

"You just said people were mean."

"No, the guys on the roster were okay, Alberto was great, maybe not you - oh stop frowning, I'm joking – like stagehands and production assistants, when I was your assistant they just never took me seriously. Like I was some airhead that didn't give a fuck about wrestling. Goddamn it pissed me off, sensing by your facial expression you feel responsible; all the same, I don't give a shit. They never apologised to me but I'm glad you did Punk."

"I'm glad I did to, took me long enough."

The two shared a comfortable silence, grinning occasionally at each other. "So you travel alone now?"

She gave him a small smile, "Yeah. You're so lucky you have that bus, plane schedules are a goddamn nightmare."

"Tell me about it, you know, when you're ever travelling on the road, you don't have to but my bus is always welcome." Punk couldn't help but remember the time Phoebe had handed him the keys to the bus for the first time, he didn't feel too great at that point and was looking at Phoebe for a reaction.

"It isn't necessary, but I will keep that offer in mind, thank you."

"I'm sorry," Punk mumbled "

Phoebe knew exactly what he was talking about, she offered him a smile, squeezing his tattooed hand in the process, "Stop apologizing Punk, it's okay."

"What the fuck is this?" Both of them turned to their side to see Dolph seething at the sight of both of them.

"Nick." Phoebe breathed, noticing how angry he was.

"Hey Ziggles," Punk smirked, sipping some of his coffee. Dolph smacked the cup out of his hand and the 3 of them watched as the contents splattered over the floor. Punk felt his blood reach boiling point and had immediately jumped out of his chair, knocking it back in the process. The two superstars stared down at each other yet Phoebe could only suppress an eye roll.

"Stop with the pissing contest, okay? Everyone's watching us."

"I don't give a **fuck**. Care to explain what's going on here?" Dolph spoke through gritted teeth, Phoebe tried standing her ground but immediately felt fear rippling through her.

Punk saw the look on her face and shoved the show off away from her, before either of them had a moment to retaliate, Phoebe mumbled," Let's just go outside, okay?"

"But my coffee!" Punk whined.

"Fuck your coffee," she snapped, already half way out the door. Nick and Punk followed behind her trying not to murder each other, once outside, Phoebe shivered at the cold wind.

"Well."

"Well what Nick?"

"What is this? Why were you sat in the coffee shop, drinking coffee with Punk acting like you're some love-sick couple, you do know who he is? You do know what he's done to you, the things he has said!?" Nick yelled, scaring the passers by.

"Don't talk to her like that! Treat her with some **respect**!"

"Respect, you're going to tell **me** about respect, wow okay, Phoebe he's telling me to treat **you** with respect."

"Nick stop it, you're embarrassing yourself. Me and Punk have resolved our differences and he's apologised countless amount of times, and we're civil, we're friends. Its fine, friends who just wanted to go grab some coffee, what is the big deal?"

"What is the big deal?" Dolph scoffed.

"Yeah, what is the **big deal**?" Punk sneered, Dolph balled up his fists, tempted to throw at Punk's face, Phoebe shot him a warning look, **don't push it, Punk**.

"Nick, you're being completely irrational. Punk is my friend, there's nothing more to it."

"You are so naïve Phoebe, god do I have to remind you the things he did to you? He didn't just say them to your face, he used to say things about you to all the guys in the locker room! Why are you acting so childish?"

"Nick, you are the only one here being childish! Where have you been anyway? I haven't seen you in almost 3 weeks, you've just fucked off somewhere, I've texted you **so **many times and all I have gotten is single word replies. I know you're with Amy now, I get it, but - "

"But what Phoebe? **Jealous**? Is that what this is?"

Phoebe held back her laughter, she was getting tired off this conversation, "Listen Nick, why don't **you** give me a call when you decide how completely irrational you are and when you actually decide to give a shit. Goddamn it."

Storming off Phoebe felt tears threatening to fall, _what had just happened? _She knew Nick was just looking out for her, however he had crossed the line, some arbitrary line that she didn't even think existed until now. Did Nick really think that she would be jealous, of **Amy**? Phoebe couldn't comprehend whether she was upset because Nick sunk so low or because somehow, she was scared that it was the truth. Nick was charming, sexy, intelligent, he made her heart pound when he smiled at her, and he made her feel special. She had only met him a year ago and felt like they had known each other in the womb, she had a right to be angry. She had been completely blanked by him for weeks, she had a right to be angry and she could feel the venom pouring out of her.

"That was a really dick move," Punk growled.

"Don't give me that bullshit, I'm looking out for her, you're the one that's a dick. What is this anyway? One of your little games, something you like to do, lure innocent women and break their hearts? You fucking broke her Punk, you can't just magically charm her and have her eating out of the palm of your grubby little hand."

"Dude, you're fucking crossing the line, alright? She loves you, okay, she fucking misses you. And you better believe it Dolphin because we are friends, whether you like it or not. She has missed you so much, so what if she's jealous? Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"I don't need relationship advice from someone who got cheated on, okay?"

Dolph bit his tongue. He knew that was cold, definitely uncalled for. From then on, all Punk could see was red. That had pushed the fucking line; he felt like his head was about to explode and didn't hesitate to throw a punch at Dolph, square in the jaw. Both of them screamed in pain, Punk's hand throbbed angrily and tried to shake the pain as he still seethed from his comment. Dolph's lip had been busted open, there was blood across his mouth.

"Punk, I'm sorry – "

"Fuck off, Nick, seriously before I murder you, get the fuck out of here."

Dolph staggered as he entered the hotel, the impact from Punk's punch had left his face searing in pain. He regretted it, the moment the words had left his lips he knew what a jackass he had been. There was blood all over his shirt and it had already dried dark crimson on his chin.

"I'm with the WWE and I've lost my room card key, I was wondering if you could give me another one?" Despite the fact that he had blood smeared across his face, his charming smile did the trick.

"What name please?"

"It isn't under mine, I'm sharing a room with someone else. Phoebe Walker."

The woman at the front desk eyed him suspiciously however regardless she handing him the room key, the number displayed in large block font. "Will that be all, **sir**? She purred seductively, Dolph could only smirk however he reassured her that he didn't need anything else. He broke out into a sprint and managed to find the room she was staying in. He knocked softly, embarrassed and ashamed. He heard shuffling from inside and waited a couple of seconds until the door opened slightly.

After realising who it was, Phoebe contemplated whether to open the door or not however her eyes skimmed over him, blood marking his face and staining his shirt. Rolling her eyes she edged the door so that he could step inside, during the last hour she had considerably calmed down yet seeing Nick again agitated her a little.

His eyes followed her as she strode into the bathroom with confidence, a couple of moments later she had returned back into the room with a bowl of water and a wash cloth, she opened her fridge and retrieved a can of Pepsi. She motioned Dolph to sit on the bed, she sat beside him and gently dabbed the ice cold wash cloth over the wound, he winced in pain however his eyes were locked on hers.

"I told you not to push him." He blinked, unsure of how to respond. She was wiping the dry blood off of his skin, careful not to hurt him. She noticed a bruise forming around his jaw. Phoebe knew what his punches were like, only weeks ago i was her that had been a victim of one of Punk's throws.

"So what did you say? He doesn't normally throw punches until someone really crosses the line."

"You don't want to know Phoebe." She carried on wiping away, he shivered silently at her delicate touches across his neck, softly pressing her fingers into his skin. She was within kissing distance and his breath hitched, hot over her face. When he didn't answer, she tossed the wash cloth into the bowl of cold water.

"Well?" She responded, irritated.

"He was telling me how you missed me and he was just saying how, it doesn't matter if you're jealous because that should clearly mean **something**, and I was just so annoyed because a while back you were so clearly in love with him and he never seemed to notice so I just thought he was being a hypocrite – "

"I'm not in love with you Nick, don't flatter yourself I mean, I just thought we were friends. I want my friend back."

"You could've told me instead of running to Punk." Dolph muttered, hurt.

"Don't change the subject Nick, what happened?"

"I might have, mentioned Amy."

"Amy?" Phoebe recoiled from Nick's touch as she stood up from the bed and backed away from him, "What did you _say_, Nick!?"

Dolph winced at her harsh tone; he really had no intention of telling her yet her eyes grew wide in fury urging him to answer her question.

"I told him that I didn't need relationship advice from someone who got cheated on," his voice was almost inaudible.

"You said - WHAT?! Nick, how could you?" She sank to the floor, running her shaking hands through her hair.

"I wasn't thinking, I didn't mean to. It just came out, he was really annoying me – "

"You had absolutely no right in doing that! I cannot believe you!" Phoebe couldn't even look at him, she didn't even know who he was anymore. She couldn't fathom why Nick was acting like this, or saying the things he was. This wasn't the guy she had come to know and love. The sentence repeated itself over and over in her mind and then turned to look at the swollen bruise on his face, she wondered what Punk was really capable of. She knew if she had the ability she would've done way worse.

"Phoebe – "

"Get out, Nick. Seriously."

"Don't do this, you know I didn't mean it."

"I don't know anything anymore, whether you like it or not Punk is my friend now and what you said was fucking unacceptable, I can't even look at you right now." Nick got the message loud and clear, he knew Phoebe and he knew that she was true to her morals. If anyone had hurt one of her friends she was the first to back them up and support them. In the back of his mind, he understood that this so called friendship was really down to Phoebe having a soft spot for Punk. He could only give her space, however he felt his heart ache as he saw how upset she was, wondering what he could do to make it up to her. He thanked Phoebe for taking care of his wound and left silently before mumbling a goodbye.

Once she heard the door click shut she scavenged for her phone, quickly she dialled Punk's number – it continued to ring for over 3 minutes and realised that Punk was going to pick up. Instead she resorted to text:

**Punk, I apologise on Nick's behalf, I know you probably don't want to talk to anyone but I just have to know if you're alright. It was totally uncalled for, I'm so angry, I don't know what's come over him, Punk I'm worried – **_Phoebe_

Phoebe read over the text noticing how pathetic and needed she sounded, she erased "**Punk I'm worried" **and hit sent. Her reply was almost instant.

**No I'm not alright, how do you know anyway? - **_Punk_

**He came to my hotel room, you really hurt him Punk, his entire face was full of blood **– _Phoebe_

**Good, he fucking deserved it **_– Punk_

She smiled, replying as fast as she could, before she managed to type a sentence, he had replied again.

**So what, did you play nurse to him or something? **– _Punk_

**I cleaned him up, yes but I told him to get out when he told me **– _Phoebe_

**You didn't have to **– _Punk_

**It was completely uncalled for, he had no right, I'm still infuriated **– _Phoebe_

**How do you think I feel? **– _Punk_

**Thank you, for you know opening his eyes a little. I mean I don't think I can speak to him for a while but he needed to know that I was really missing him, I know he's really sorry though Punk **– _Phoebe_

**He's a dick Phoebe, you deserve a better friend **– _Punk_

**This isn't about me, it's about you. I just hope you'll be okay **– _Phoebe_

**Well you're talking to me so I'm great **– _Punk_

**Where are you? What are you doing? **– _Phoebe_

She was lying flat on her back, staring at her phone waiting for a reply, after a couple of minutes she heard a soft knock on her door. She strode towards the door, opening it and not in the least bit surprised to see Punk standing there. A genuine smile spread across her face until she noticed his eyes red, bloodshot and slightly puffy.

"You've been crying." Phoebe's face fell while Punk offered her a small smile, she swallowed and noticed his knuckles bruised a splintered. Punk followed her eye line and saw that she noticed his hand, as he tried to hide it she was fasted and took hold of it, studying the deep "Free "and the rest of the lettering for his "romance "tattoo and then then the deep reddish tinge that now adorned his hand. Her fingers skimmed the area and felt the warmth radiating from it, he let out a hiss and she immediately stopped.

"Sorry," she breathed, reaching for the fridge for the second time she handed him a second can of Pepsi, pressing gently he hissed again, this time he took hold of the ice cold can.

"Thank you," he whispered, she looked up and he offered her a smile, one that didn't reach his eyes, Phoebe felt all the oxygen from her lungs leave as she took in his sorrowful hazel eyes. Her heart broke for him and wondered what was going in his brain of his.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it feels fucking great." She lightly smacked his arm, giggling when he mockingly backed away. "I stopped by since I hadn't gotten by daily dose of caffeine, Bryan and some of us were thinking of getting **brunch**. I wondered if you wanted to come with."

"Brunch?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow, holding back laughter.

"Yes, brunch."

"Are you sure you're okay, I mean I know you're not in the mood but – "

"I'm not really I was going to turn down the offer but then you texted me and I figured it would be a really good way for you to get to know some new people and make some friends," her heart soared as she realised Punk's considerate offer, she felt her lips curl into a heart-warming smile and nodded. Realising she was hungry yet again she grabbed her purse and shut the door behind her. "Plus I could really do with some coffee."


	24. Chapter 24

**shout out to k00kied00kie, wolviegurl and velociraptor4659, and the guests' who review my chapters, just thought i'd acknowledge you guys, and I will in the later chapters, i hope this doesn't disappoint guys, enjoy and thank you to those who are following and favouring, i really appreciate it :)**

Both of them hailed a cab which then directed them to IHop, Phoebe still couldn't erase the dull feeling of sadness that washed over her every time she thought of Nick, Punk noticed it too however he too was stewing over the words that were said by the show off. It had been an eventful morning and a terrible start for the both of them but once they had arrived she suddenly felt at ease as the aroma of freshly baked pancakes filled her nostrils.

"What do you call a French man that wears sandals?"

"_Phillipe Phillope_!"

Punk inwardly groaned as he heard laughter from a nearby table that was already occupied by Mike, Bryan, AJ, John and Matt. "You guys are such turds."

"TURD! TURD! TURD! TURD FERGESON. Hey, has anyone seen Mr Ziggles? I tried calling him and he's not picking up." Bryan chucked as he stuck a strawberry in his mouth. Phoebe and Punk shared an awkward glance before each taking a seat with the rest of them, her gaze landed on his hand, the redness had deepened in colour causing Phoebe's stomach to turn. The words still stung herself and she couldn't even believe to imagine how Punk was feeling.

"Guys this is Phoebe," Punk cleared his throat in attempts to change the subject. "Phoebe this is – "

"Bryan - Matt, AJ and John, I believe we've met, and Mike, the awesome one," Phoebe grinned.

"Phoebe, long time to see, or speak," John smirked, his smile was infectious that made Phoebe's heart melt, "How's working for the creative team working for you? You've done a great job so far."

"It's great, oh my god, thank you. I've got a lot of ideas for storylines that include you but Steph just doesn't have time to hear my pitches and Mark is an incredible writer for you so, maybe in the near future. "

"You were the one that asked for Bryan and me to win the titles at Survivor Series weren't you?" Zack gasped, as if a light bulb had lit up in a 'eurika' moment, Phoebe sent a wink in his direction. Daniel Bryan had taken off so well with the storyline with AJ and the world heavyweight champion, the break up after Wrestlemania when he lost it to Sheamus was being played out perfectly however Phoebe also knew that Zack Ryder was continually being drafted back down to Smackdown. There had been countless amount of times where she mentioned to put him on Raw or even a storyline to keep the Zack Ryder fans happy, but no one was willing to listen, it was deeply infuriating.

"Have you told him yet!? Have you told him yet?!" AJ yelped as she bounced on her seat.

"Wait you two know each other?" Punk raised an eyebrow at AJ and then again at Phoebe.

"I haven't told him or Bryan yet because I haven't even pitched Stephanie the idea yet," Phoebe spoke through gritted teeth.

"What idea?"

"Yeah what idea? Where is the _freaking_ waitress?" Punk barked, a petite woman waddled over with a notepad and pen scribbling down Punk's and Phoebe's orders.

"So?"

"I'm not telling you _anything_."

"Bitch," Punk smirked, Phoebe stuck her tongue out at him however she still refused to say anything. "Come on Phoebe, just tell us, you're killing us here."

"It involves you, AJ and Bryan."

"So it's a love triangle?"

"Not necessarily a triangle," she winked again in AJ's direction, the guys seemed even more curious yet Phoebe kept her mouth shut. The pancakes had arrived in a tray and as requested she had an extra squirt of cream with the strawberries on the side. Punk had ordered the classic American pancakes with maple syrup and a large steaming cup of espresso. Punk admired the double helping that was on her plate and stuck his finger in the cream, popping it back in his mouth.

"Bastard," Phoebe scowled.

The two were oblivious to the rest of the guys on the table who each exchanged looks of surprise and shock, the first being the fact that Punk was actually friends with Phoebe, Punk never kept the fact that he hated Phoebe a secret so to see the both of them together was totally alien. Two, he invited her out to have brunch with the rest of them and three, the flirtatious banter they both shared was borderline adorable.

"So what's the deal with you two?" AJ beamed at the both of them, batting her eyelashes towards Punk, Phoebe felt jealousy rise inside her until he rolled her eyes at her.

"I don't know if you know this April but I'm still a man getting over a divorce and – "

"Don't play that card, okay? We haven't seen you in months – "

Punk's brows furrowed, Phoebe could see the vein in his forehead pulsating violently, "You saw me last week – "

"Saying 'hey' doesn't count, you need to put yourself out there, you know? Get yourself a nice girl."

"I don't do girlfriends, alright? I don't think I ever will now, you know this. I make a way better friend than a boyfriend."

"So there's nothing going on between you two?" John joined in, Punk sighed deeply as he threw down his knife and fork to glare at him - Phoebe shook her head and so did Punk.

"So do you _have_ a boyfriend? You had a thing with Dolphin didn't you?" Mike questioned her, sending her a toothy grin, Phoebe shook her head giving him a sad smile.

"I sense a romance story, maybe not with Nick, but one before you landed this gig."

"Is that so?"

"I know there is."

"Right that's enough. Can we stop with the fucking 20 questions, why do you guys have to be so goddamn nosey? I asked her to come with me so that she could make new friends now get interrogated by you fucktards."

"Punk it's fine seriously. You guys can ask whatever you want, I hold no secrets," Phoebe played around with the pancakes on her plate, she was way too full yet she couldn't help but finish the entire thing.

"I'm sorry, we don't mean to intrude but you have to know how this looks," Mike mumbled apologetically.

"Since you hold no secrets, care to tell us about the storyline you have planned?" Bryan grinned as he scratched his beard.

"You'll find out soon don't worry, I'm sure you've gotten the memo for tonight's meeting."

Although she had met all of them at some point at her time in the WWE, she was still grateful that Punk invited her to IHop, she had exchanged numbers with all of them and after they left the pancake house they managed to squeeze in a film before deciding to grab a quick work out at the gym and then prepare for their segments for Monday Night Raw. Backstage was busy as usual, all the staff meetings with creative were nearing, emails had been sent and the memos had been faxed to all of the talent and production assistants. The crew had just finished setting up the ring and Phoebe was sat in the VIP box along with AJ, the two had clicked immediately and AJ was glad that there was someone in the creative department that wanted a diva storyline other than one that involved the diva's champion. Phoebe knew of AJ's remarkable talent back from NXT, she was assisting Punk at the time and made a mental note to pitch her storyline idea. She knew that Punk and AJ had a lot in common however in terms of personality they were complete opposites, tastes in comics, movies, there passion to wrestle matched perfectly, she would be stupid not to put both of them in some sort of relationship on television.

"You alright?" AJ blew, a strand of hair out of her face.

"Yeah, just need to finalise the notes for the meeting tonight, I know Steph is my friend but she's still pretty intimidating. When she turns down ideas she really murders them. I just hope she agrees to this one, you deserve this push."

"You've come so far, the word is you're her favourite writer."

Phoebe scoffed. "I can't wait to work with Punk, I'm not going to lie, he is phenomenal in the ring. He's just awe inspiring."

"Sounds like someone's got a crush," she muttered, not realising the bitterness in her tone.

"He's charming and hot, he really has that bad boy thing going on and you know, he didn't judge me. I guess because we're into similar things but he just makes me smile, you know?"

Phoebe did know but didn't want to admit it, she couldn't comprehend why this had annoyed her however she pushed aside any feelings, she knew she was being completely irrational and plus she was in no position to say she had a thing for Punk, because she didn't.

"Hopefully I'll get to have an on-screen kiss with him."

"Hopefully."

"You're not into him are you?"

"No! I mean no, yeah I've pushed aside my differences and forgiven him but you can't just forget, some of the stuff he said … really stuck, really hurt me. He knows and he apologises which I'm totally grateful for but I'm good."

"You sure? I mean I get it – "

"Drop it April, come on let's go see Steph."

"Congratulations on Punk's win at Extreme Rules," Phoebe started, Punk smirked nodding at her, "Tonight when Daniel finishes his match with Regal, Punk's music will hit. Initially this is where we start the feud between as Bryan is then number one contender for the WWE championship. Punk won't be wrestling tonight but he'll come out and raise his belt into the air, however this is where AJ comes in. Next week's Smackdown AJ and Kaitlyn's friendship break which then result in a match, Kaitlyn will pick up the win, Bryan will come out and publically humiliate her and _officially _break up with her. Punk and Bryan's feud is growing stronger and then AJ will become infatuated with Punk thus creating a love triangle."

"I thought you said this wasn't a triangle?" Bryan piped up.

"Right, that's where Kane comes in."

"_Kane!?"_ The entire room gasped, "Why Kane?" Stephanie asked, intrigued.

"AJ here is our femme fatal, we're developing her character, crazy, unstable and someone that can wrap any man around her little finger, including the red monster. The story will play out and that's another pitch for another time which I will discuss with Bryan and Kane some other time but, yes AJ/Punk/Bryan will be our main focus."

"The Poison Ivy to my Batman," Punk winked at AJ who blushed furiously, sending him a cheeky grin. Phoebe swallowed any awkward notions that ran through her body.

"I like it, I like it, Phoebe I want to see a developed piece on my desk by tomorrow and I want them sent to each of the superstars. I really want to see where this goes so well done, right people let's get this show on the road. Half an hour, people," Stephanie called the meeting to an end, each creative writer going through their chosen superstar. She had spoken to Bryan's and Kane's prior and had developed the storyline from then on.

"Sounds like everybody's getting that _push_, huh?" Mike mumbled in Phoebe's ear, she turned to face him horrified, "Relax! I'm just yanking your chain, besides I've got filming in less than 2 weeks for Marine 3."

"Don't worry Mike, if you want I can talk to Steph if you like?"

"You'd do that?"

"Sure I would, I mean, I am a creative writer but I'm still a huge fan. Don't tell anyone this but, " she leaned close into his ear, and whispered," _you're my favourite._"

"Favouritism huh?"

"No, I just want everyone to have a fair chance. Besides, we're friends right? It annoys me so much that almost half the roster hardly ever get TV time, honestly Mike if it was up to me - "

"I know." Mike offered her a small smile, "But I have a match tonight, I am ready to get knocked out by the Big Show, so, I'll get you later, doll."

"Good job," she felt someone whisper softly in her ear, startled she turned around to see Nick standing in front of her, he had a match that night and was already in his gear and shirt, his bleached blonde hair dripping wet down his neck. He wasn't smiling like he usually was, Phoebe had simmered down from this morning and looked at his face sympathetically.

"Thanks," Phoebe breathed, watching the other superstars walk past her, including Punk who glared at Nick. "What did they say your face?" Phoebe's stomach turned as observed his bruises closer, yellow, blue, purple bruises had formed on his radiant flawless tan and swollen lips that still looked like they were about to bleed any minute.

"They're not too happy, and I'm not wrestling tonight. Just escorting Jack and Vickie, I still have to put shit loads of make-up but, anymore hits to my face and it's probably gonna fall off my head."

"Nick, I'm really disappointed in you, he's still emotionally scarred. You don't know what it's like."

"And you do?"

"That's beside the point Nick, Punk has too much pride to let this affect him in his work environment but you've really hurt him."

"He's always been a moody ass who doesn't give a shit about anybody and never will. Yeah I was an asshole but you shouldn't put so much faith in him."

"People change, Nick. You underestimate him. He's experienced something that I hope no one _ever_ has to go through."

"He's not changed because of what happened with Amy it's because he felt pity and guilt and then you two decide to play best friends and go for fucking cups of coffee together."

"Seriously Nick. God, will you just drop it, what is it with you? What is going on? This is so unlike you!" Phoebe could feel her patience wearing thin and could see the exasperation in Nick's eyes.

"Amy broke up with me, okay? And you're off being buddy-buddy with that bastard and I just found out that after John's divorce, Nikki has been dating him. Alright? Phoebe, I've not had a great relationship record and I can see one ending terribly in a mile off. He plays people Phoebe and you're just being so stubborn. He feels bad for treating you like shit before, he doesn't want to be your _friend_, he's just compensating for the way he was with you."

"You're jealous," Phoebe's eyes widened as she struck her epiphany,"and I thought it was me that was jealous of _Amy_, but it's you. You're the one that doesn't want Punk to be my friend because you think I've replaced you with him." Phoebe stated, more to herself than to Nick.

"Don't be ridiculous Phoebe."

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Shut - up."

"Nikki's dating John and Amy dumped you which means that you're alone and you miss me but you're pissed that I'm friends with Punk."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Nick's tone icy and full of sorrow.

"Talk to me Nick," Phoebe cooed, she saw the sorrow in his eyes as she taunted him and knew she was going about this in a completely wrong way.

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm going go. Maybe we can talk civil later," Nick walked away however Phoebe stood in his way, Nick stepping right and Phoebe followed his movements.

"Move – Phoebe – stop this – this is really childish now …" Nick eventually felt his mind snap, he placed a firm grip on each side of Phoebe's face and without warning or hesitation dipped his head planted a searing kiss on her lips, she heard Nick hiss and knew that it was because of the swelling however regardless he still kissed her with passion and want. He let go and looked intently in her eyes, both of their lips still tingling with excitement. Phoebe was lost for words and Nick's grip loosened, releasing her from his grasp. He stumbled away still confused at his actions, he walked away before getting a second glance at her one last time, still flustered and hot – he turned back around and left silently, desire and lust still laced in the air.

Phoebe ran a shaken hand through her hair, unable to comprehend what just happened and why, here she was still confused about her feelings for Nick and somewhere in the back of her mind, Punk kept coming back. However tonight Nick confirmed his feelings for her, and he got the answers to his questions without even asking her, actions speak louder than words. Punk had already stated that he wasn't looking for anything, not wanting to get involved with the drama of having a girlfriend. Phoebe didn't know where her head was at, however she knew that she wouldn't mind Nick kissing her again, and again and again...

Punk stared aimlessly from the back as he witnessed the heated discussion between the two friends, he had known there was tension between them both but never did he think it was sexual. He saw the lust and urgency in both of their faces. The way Nick grabbed her with demand like he fucking owned her or something. The bastard saw a perfect opportunity and saw what was his because he was jealous. W_hat was his? What am I talking about? _Punk thought to himself, his brow knitted together even more. Phoebe wasn't even his and they hadn't even been friends for less than 2 weeks. He couldn't fathom an explanation as to _what_ he was feeling, anger or resentment. Phoebe knew that Nick had been an asshole to him and still Phoebe had feelings for him, _she was aloud to have feelings for whoever she wanted, her life, her choices. _Punk watched Phoebe's face light up, her fingers tracing her lips, a smile beamed on her face. It was a smile that he had never seen before, a smile that made the little creases next to her eyes, she was stunning and radiant. She had really fallen for Nick, and the realisation had it hit Punk like a ton of bricks.


	25. Chapter 25

**you're so going to hate me, oh my god, i apologise in advance, this is a super super short chapter but i hope it'll satisfy you guys all the same, i appreciate the reviews, Crazy WiAtch, RochelleCO4, wolviegurl, velociraptor4659 and the guest, they mean so so so much, thank you guys!  
Enjoy lovelies!**

Phoebe had spent the majority of the night with her eyes glued to the monitor, a headset nestled on her head intently watching all the matches scheduled for tonight's Raw. She paid extra attention towards Dolph Ziggler who stood by ringside, muscles bulging with a bubble butt that made Phoebe drool. The makeup hadn't done a great amount in terms of hiding the bruises and Michael Cole had been ordered to specifically tell the WWE audience that Dolph had gotten them during a house show, however he was still smiling, sexy grinning more like. The pair had met briefly after the show had ended in a quiet diner, hoping to discuss what had just happened moments before Monday Night Raw started.

**"Why did you never say anything?" Dolph spoke softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.**

**"You mean, why did I never tell you I liked you?"**

**"Yeah."**

**"You and Amy were doing so great, I didn't want to intefere and tell you I have the hots for you." Phoebe mumbled embarrassingly.**

**"You have the hots for me?" Nick smirked.**

**"You know I do, what happened Nick? Why didn't you say anything?"**

**"You and Punk were getting on so well, I just didn't want to intrude on a wonderful, beautiful friendship." **

**Phoebe noted the sarcasm dripping from his voice and scowled, "Don't avoid the question Nick."**

**It took a few minutes for Nick to compose himself, truth be told the breakup had been pretty clean with no tears however he couldn't help himself, frustration and sadness took over him. "There was no real reason, she kept making lame excuses like I was to athletic in bed and that it was lowering her self esteem. I kept trying to tell her how beautiful she is, we weren't in love but we were still pretty serious. I don't give a shit anymore but at the time I was just so irritated and angry..."**

**"I'm sorry, Nick. I really thought you two had something if not anything, she's acting like an idiot, I really wish she gave you a legit reason"**

**"So do I. But that kiss - "**

**"That kiss was amazing, it blew me away, Nick. I didn't realise how much I've been yearning for someone to want and hold me the way you just did. I understand if you don't want to start anything, I just - my lips are still tingling." Phoebe bit her lip in attempts to calm her steamy thoughts.**

**"Same. Phoebe, I, I don't really know what I want, because you're not some rebound that I want to bed and I'm afraid that, that is what you're going to think and honestly I'm afraid that it's going to be the truth."**

**"But the kiss - "**

**"Believe me, I've been meaning to do that for a while, I wanted it as much as you, I gave into temptation."**

**"So, what do you suggest we do? Nick, I don't want to ruin our friendship."**

**"Neither do I, but you can't deny the electricity between us Phoebe." The two of them gazed at each other, searching for an answer. Neither one of them knew what to do and neither one of them wanted to ruin their friendship.**

**"How about dinner? We don't have to be exclusive, we don't have to do anything or label whatever this is yet, let me take you out."**

**"Date but not label it?"**

**"Yeah."**

**"So we're not … exclusive?"**

**"Is that not alright?"**

**"No it's good, that's good."**

Nick didn't seem convinced however Phoebe was more than glad, she was still terribly confused as to where her head was at, she had kept her dirty thoughts about Punk to herself yet she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if they were actually **real**. To have Punk hold her the way he would in her steamy fantasies, Dolph had similar qualities however whenever she made a mental list of comparisons in her head Punk always came up on top. But she could never put herself out there and it was most likely that Punk wasn't interested and probably never will be.

Her head rested on her pillow, after her meet up with Nick she flopped down onto the hotel bed, too lazy to change out of her work clothes. She enjoyed the quietness for a bit, that soon turned into an hour of repeatedly checking her phone for any messages **off Punk**. She hadn't received her usual sassy, sarcastic SMS from him and she had let her mind wonder into millions of possibilities. _Where was he, why hasn't he texted, what is he doing, is he with someone_. Initially she assumed that he was asleep then scoffed remembering that he would always refer to him as Bruce Wayne - "Bitch I'm Batman, Batman never sleeps."

Feeling restless she grabbed her cell and sent him a text, she felt incredibly stupid and idiotic and mostly like a silly school girl.

**Where you at Punk? **– _Phoebe_

The reply was lightning fast.

**In your room. **– _Punk_

**Of course you are, I don't even know why I asked** – _Phoebe_

**Yeah, why did you? **– _Punk_

**So, you okay? **– _Phoebe_

**Peachy. **– _Punk_

**You sure you're alright? **- _Phoebe_

**I said I was fine, oh fucking my god -**_ Punk_

Phoebe felt anger flare inside her, she knew Punk was one moody son of a bitch, and realised that it was unlikely that Punk would tell her all of his problems, whatever they might be. Maybe Nick was right. _No that's ridiculous_. He's a jerk, a loveable jerk, an asshole and a dick to most people.

She wanted to know what was wrong, she wanted to know why Punk was acting like a dickweed. Hastily, Phoebe grabbed her room card key, her patience was wearing thin and her nosiness had gotten the better of her, slamming her door she went on a search to find his room. She wondered about asking Punk where he was staying but knew that it wasn't likely that he would tell her. She fished out her phone and texted Mike:

**Mike hun, do you know what room Punk's staying in?** – _Phoebe_

**224**, **is everything alright babe?** – _Mike_

**Yeah, you know him and his mood swings **– _Phoebe_

**Gotchya hun **- _Mike_

Phoebe found the room, hesitating before knocking on it; _oh to hell with it_, she raised her fist and tapped her knuckle gently on the door. She heard some shuffling on the other side and the door swung open, revealing a shirtless Punk in shorts with a middle parting in his hair.

"Yeah?"

Taken aback, Phoebe stepped into his room, his body imprinted into the bed with a comic book and his phone on the un-crumpled side.

"I wasn't interrupting anything, as I?" She asked coyly, her back turned.

"Not really, what are you doing here Phoebe?"

"Well I just wanted to see if you were alright – "

"I said I was fine." Punk huffed, she was taken aback by Punk's attitude towards her, _was he irritated that I was here?_

She raised her hands in mock defeat, "Wow, okay. Whatever, dick."

"Wait – stop - I'm sorry – Phoebe."

"Look, stop being a little bitch, alright? I thought we were friends, what's wrong Punk? I know when something's not right, I can see it on your face. Like you're angry at the world all the time, but like, have I done something to upset you? Tell me, don't just stew in here and treat the people that care about you like shit alright?"

Punk stared at her in disbelief; this wasn't something he was used to. Every single one of his friends knew when to leave him alone and knew not to say anything to him until he had passed his mood swings. He couldn't just tell her that he saw her kiss Nick, not when he had the urge to stab Nick repeatedly. He had to lie, he didn't _want_ to.

"You didn't do anything, I was just pissed that you were talking to Nick. Which is dumb because I know he's your friend, I mean I did give him a good beating," _I would've done a lot worse, _Punk thought bitterly. It wasn't a total lie, half the truth.

"I'm – I'm sorry Punk. I didn't think that would upset you. I – "

"It's fine really, I'm not angry at you, just pissed at him and myself really."

Phoebe bit down on her tongue, she couldn't tell him that Nick kissed her – he'd go fucking apeshit if he knew, she felt somewhat guilty and couldn't comprehend why.

Punk observed Phoebe, she was deep in thought and he wondered whether she would tell him, probably not, her personal life wasn't any of his business yet it still stung that she didn't even mention it.

"I'm sorry for making you feel like this, I hate to think that it was me that made you feel shitty," Phoebe apologized, her face was distraught and it pulled Punk at his heartstrings. **What has this woman done to me?**

"You really don't need to apologise, I'm feeling better now that you're hear anyway. Thanks for coming by, I don't have many friends that care for me like you do," Punk grinned, genuinely meaning every single world.

"Good stuff, sorry I called you a bitch."

"I believe you called me a dick as well."

"That's because you are one."

"Ouch."

The pair smirked at each other from across the room, and fell into an uncomfortable silence. Phoebe knew at some point she would have to mention the kiss that her and Nick shared however for now she enjoyed the cute moment she was having with Punk.

"You tired?" Punk was first to break the silence.

"Not really, what were you thinking?"

"How about a film?"

"You read my mind."

Punk and Phoebe sat on the soft hotel room carpet, the room was pitch black setting the mood for the horror movies they had planned for tonight, Punk had chosen the film and settled for Evil Dead. Phoebe proudly showed Punk her Ash tattoo that adorned her upper thigh. Punk loved the fact that she had ink and was surprised that she hadn't mentioned the fact that she had tattoos before. In all honestly he admired how beautiful her legs where, she wasn't tall or small, _just perfect_.

"Any other tats?"

"They're in **very intimate** places," Phoebe winked flirtatiously. Punk didn't say anything more on it, letting his imagination run wild.

The two laughed as they watched Ash saw a woman in half, 1970's horror could never be beaten even with the ketchup like blood that splattered the screen. Even shoulder to shoulder Punk still felt like this was incredibly intimate, he didn't want to think about what Nick and Phoebe had going on, he didn't even think they made a good pair, would the two of us make a good pair, Punk pondered. The film had come to an end with Ash screaming in terror, Phoebe's eyed glued to the screen.

"I cannot believe you've never seen this."

"Neither can I," Phoebe breathed, Punk chuckled and turned his full attention towards her. He couldn't believe how much he admired her, she was the epitome of perfection and beauty. Was this lust? He couldn't be in love, **it's too soon**.

The way her hair cascaded over her face, smooth and silky like a waterfall as opposed to his greasy mop. Her eyes sparkled whenever she talked about her passions, writing, films, art, working for the WWE. Her eyes would shine, minimal make up, light, rose coloured lips. His hands snaked through her luscious hair, pulling her closer towards him. He pulled it slightly back just so he could look into the deep blue in her eyes, she glanced nervously at his lips, the ring that was pierced through shining through the darkness. He was mesmerised by her and couldn't quite believe how long it had taken him to realise what he was feeling. The smell of passion fruit shampoo wafted into his nose making it tingle with delight. He closed his eyes slowly and leaned in pressing his lips gently against hers, all his want, passion and admiration was shared between them in a delicate, heartfelt kiss. He devoured her, wanting to explore her body even more. He slipped his tongue between her parted lips and matting it with hers.

"Phil, are you alright?"

"Mhm?" Punk blinked a couple of times to see Phoebe looking at him strangely, _what just happened? _

"Erm, Punk?" Her gaze travelled down towards Punk's lap.

"What?"

"Erm," he looked down and saw what she was talking about, Punk felt like he was going to die of embarrassment, no wonder his shorts felt uncomfortable, it looked like his dick was going to rip them off. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and placed it over his lower part, scowling in frustration as he saw Phoebe smirking at him.

"Care to share?"

"Fuck off."

Phoebe didn't want to pry but couldn't help but wonder what had gotten Punk so hot that he had managed to get a … Was it her? Because it couldn't have been the horror movie they had both just watched. Her cheeks burnt and she had never felt so grateful for the fact that they decided on watching the films in the dark. Punk waddled his way towards the bathroom leaving Phoebe to sit alone in the dark. She checked the time, _4:15am_, sighing she didn't feel like going back to her hotel room and turned to look at Punk's bed. It was a kingside bed, the hotel room was extremely luxurious as opposed to hers. Giving into temptation she squealed and jumped onto it, wrapping the fluffy covers around her in a cocoon.

Punk emerged from the bathroom a couple minutes later, surprised to find that Phoebe was no longer sitting on the floor but snoring softly on his hotel bed. Her hair sprawled over the pillow, her arms reaching over to the other side, Punk didn't have the heart to wake her up and tell her to fuck off. Instead he drew back the covers, lying on his side. He didn't want to seem like a pervert, but all memory of him getting a boner right in front of her vanished. _What the fuck was that? Why had that happened?_ He knew that it was too good to be true, she was with Nick, it hurt that she hadn't told him yet here he was admiring her.

Parted lips, long eyelash strokes resting on her cheeks, he was in awe, and she was fucking clueless.


	26. Chapter 26

**Thanks to all the lovelies you reviewed, they're all fantastic NiketaBonita, KinkyRebel1, Crazy WiAtch, wolviegurl, velociraptor4659, RochelleCO4, angelsdee327, bitter-alisa  
Here is another chapter for those of you who love my story, thanks for sticking with it, i know i'm not that good a writer so, I really appreciate it :)**

"You got a fucking hard-on while watching Evil Dead? Dude!"

"Shut the fuck up, I **said**I got one while I was … imagining I was with her –"

"Like a wet dream?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't sleeping and I didn't cum, you doughnut."

"Dude, that's hilarious. You needed to stick that boner somewhere though."

"She's already with someone, godamnit. You're so fucking vile sometimes."

"Why are you whispering?"

"Because she's asleep!"

"You did bed her! You are **such** a liar."

"No, when I went to go sort out my .. she fell asleep in my bed. God knows why she didn't just fuck off to her boyfriend's room."

"Who is she with?"

"I'm not telling you Scott."

"Are you definitely sure she's with someone?"

"Well I definitely saw her suck someone's face off, look I'll speak to you later, I'm gonna head off."

"Alright man, actually go to sleep don't just stare at her like a pervert."

"You know me too well." Punk smirked.

"Night Bruce."

Punk ended the call, embarrassment had consumed him and he didn't think he could face Phoebe in the morning. He was never one of those people that gave a shit about what anyone else thinks, but when something like that does happen in front of a girl you like, you suddenly wish the ground would just swallow you up. Punk genuinely felt like committing. He felt so humiliated he knew it would be easier to not see Phoebe ever again than to come face to face with her the following morning. His gaze landed on the bed, her chest rising, snoring softly in a rhythmic pattern. He erased any feelings of shame and slipped back into the warm bed, sitting up as he leaned against the headboard. He prayed to God that she wouldn't tell anyone, he didn't think that she was the type of person to run her mouth. Just as he was about to close his eyes he heard his phone vibrate on the bedside table.

**Hey Phil, you okay? You seemed pretty pissed earlier? Just wanted to make sure if you were okay **– _April_

Punk couldn't help but grin; he had been watching AJ for a while now, she was the most talked about spunky female wrestler, her name was on everyone's lips. AJ was by far the best woman he had ever seen wrestle in the ring so to be working with her and Bryan in a storyline was fine by him. Punk thought she was cute, really cute with an exceptional taste in comic books, the two had clicked instantly and that was very **very** rare.

**I'm great, thanks for asking. Why are you awake, we have rehearsal's tomorrow. Insomnia isn't for everyone you know? **– _Punk_

**Just couldn't sleep, I can't wait to work with you tomorrow. I've been waiting for this day for ages! **– _April_

**Something on your mind? I can't wait either ;) **– _Punk_

**I'll tell you tomorrow, I just wanted to text to see if you were doing okay, goodnight Phillip ;) **– _April_

Punk began to wonder what AJ wanted to tell him, as he let his mind wander the fatigue slowly took over him as he fell into a deep slumber next to Phoebe, her face being the last thing on his mind.

She immediately cursed herself for wearing work clothes, her skin tight tailored pants and sleeveless silk blouse were by far the most uncomfortable thing she had ever slept in, comfort was what she was craving right now. Once she removed the covers she felt her whole body grow cold, yet one look at Punk made her face grow hot. She could not believe what had happened last night after they finished watching Evil Dead; she thought it was absolutely adorable however the frustration of not knowing exactly what he was thinking had gotten the better of her. She was never going to let it go and that was a fact. She glanced at the clock beside her, _7:46am. _It felt like she had absolutely no sleep at however the warmth radiating from the bed was drawing her back in. Phoebe turned to look at Punk. She had never seen him so peaceful, no mouthyness or sassiness, no smart ass remarks. His lips were parted, the piercing that adorned it glinting in the morning light. It was a surprise to her that Punk had been okay with her seeing him without his hair gelled back, so casual. It was completely alien to see him act so comfortable, it had made her feel relaxed and genuinely happy. Feeling the sleep leave her body she decided to get out of bed, a draft hitting her bare arms. Her attention turned towards the doors that led to the balcony, the bastard had left them open.

Her front pocket began to vibrate, fishing it out she beamed at the caller ID. "Morning, you."

"Morning, hey where are you? Why aren't you in your room?"

"Oh, I crashed at Punk's last night, are you outside my room?"

Phoebe heard the Nick grumble angry, an awkward silence had filled the end of the line, "Come on Nick, we're friends and we were having a movie night, we always do."

"I – just – don't – like – him." He hissed through the phone.

"I'll see you in a minute Nick, just wait there."

Phoebe put the phone down and sighed deeply. She understood why Nick was looking out for her, any friend would and the concern that he had for her was something she was alien to. It was strange for someone to tell you not to be friends with someone. Nick just didn't know what Punk was like, most people saw him for this moody, son of a bitch – because he is a moody, son of a bitch, but they never made an effort to actually get to know the guy underneath. They didn't want to get to know _Phil Brooks. _

Glancing back at the bed she wondered if it was wise to wake Punk up, _probably not, _she just didn't have the heart to wake him up. Searching for some paper she scribbled down a note, folding it she placed it on the bedside table next to his phone. The cuteness of it night replayed again in her mind, a smile appeared instantly. _See you later Phil._

After saying her mental goodbye she broke into a sprint, god knows how long Nick had been waiting. She now realised that staying over in Punk's hotel room was a terrible mistake, she now realised that she was in desperate need to change her clothes and brush her teeth and probably a good shower. As she got closer she saw a blonde head in the distance. He was leaning against the door and Phoebe saw this as the perfect opportunity to sneak up on him. Inches away she placed both hands on either one of his eyes.

"Guess who?" she purred softly in his ear.

Without warning he grabbed hold of both her wrists, pinning her forcefully against the wall, he leaned in close his lips hovering her own. The temptation to kiss him was growing strong however having not brushed her teeth she felt self-conscious. She gently shoved his face out of her own, chuckling to herself.

"You don't happen to have any chewing gum, do you? Or a mint?"

Rolling his eyes, he searched his back pocket, handing Phoebe a strip of gum. "Thanks. Not had a moment to brush my teeth, sorry."

"TRAMP!" Nick bellowed, causing Phoebe to giggle.

She reached out for Nick's hand, linking it with her own, "Come on, you big goof."

"I don't think you realise how much I've missed you," Phoebe breathed, letting the coffee warm her inside, her hand was still intertwined with Nick's, her fingers tapped on his in a light rhythm. She loved the fact that the breakfast bar was practically empty, Nick was on the card tonight and knew he wouldn't be able to see her all day, except a cute, quiet morning meet up.

"I'm so sorry, Phoebe. You'll never know how sorry I am. You know I would never intentionally forget about you, or ignore you," Nick gave her an apologetic smile.

"You sound a lot like Punk, funny I'm willing to give you both a chance." Nick responded with a 'mhm' irritating Phoebe.

"So you're on the card tonight right?"

"Dolph versus Kofi." Sensing by his tone Phoebe knew he was being scheduled to lose.

"Creative have great plans for you Nick, just wait and see."

Nick's lips curled into a smile, "You're great Phoebe. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." The tone had shifted into all seriousness, they two had held an intense gaze at each other, Nick had this immense effect on her that would leave her breathless.

"So I was thinking, Matt's birthday is this Friday and we're all going to the club for a surprise bash, I was just wondering if you'd go with me, as my date. If you're free, you know, or you know you want to."

"Yes, I'd love to" Phoebe replied without hesitation.

The urge to grab his face at that minute and kiss him had grown, unleashing a beast within her. She was ashamed that almost hours ago she was feeling exactly the same about Punk and it was totally unfair, and regardless, she owed it to Nick to not let escalate. _Why the fuck not? You and Punk will probably never happen, Nick is such a great guy._

"Nick, I don't want you to get your hopes up. I like you, a lot. I think you're so sexy and I know I keep saying this but I don't want this to ruin our friendship. I don't – "

"It's just a date, Phoebe. They'll be other r people there. You know, you have no idea how sexy you are, you should see the way guys look at you, the way Punk looks at you – "

"Shut up Nick."

"Because I see the way you look at him too, the moment you got that job as his assistant you admired him and I stood by and watched you get your fucking heart broken."

"Nick –"

"I know you like him."

"I can't help the fact that I like two guys. You're both so great, me and Punk will never happen. I've come to terms with that."

"Phoebe I can't compete with him. I don't think I can do this, knowing I'm always going to come second, every single time over that bastard."

"Nick, stop it."

"I'm being serious Phoebe, you're so oblivious. I really do like you, always have. From the moment I met you I knew you were someone special, whether it be a friend or more than that."

There she was, breathless again. "Nick, I –"

"Maybe we shouldn't do this – "

She gave into her urges, crashing her lips against his, the taste of sour strawberries and fresh orange juice passed onto her and she slipped her tongue into his mouth. The perfect way to shut someone up, in Phoebe's opinion.

"Nick, godamnit I'm going as your date for Matt's birthday bananza whether you like it or not. Now eat your strawberries."

He blinked in disbelief, before silently stickling pieces of fruit into his mouth, smirking as he felt his lips tingle once again.

"He asked you out? That is so exciting!" AJ squealed jumping up and down, she had so much energy for such a short, little person it amazed her.

"Yeah, I can't wait to be honest. I've liked him for ages," Phoebe blushed.

"Speaking of liking people – I'm going to tell Phil I like him."

"That's great," Phoebe squeaked. The truth was, it wasn't. She liked April but she wasn't at all threatened by her regardless of her school girl crush on Punk. Phoebe couldn't tell her that she liked him, she knew AJ had her eyes on him for a long time and besides, she had already told her about Nick taking her out on Saturday.

"We need to go shopping for Friday?"

"Shopping? You? **Really**?"

"You bitches underestimate me." AJ sighed, the two were currently sat in the gym. Phoebe watched as April shuffled herself under the weight lifts. "Spot me please?"

Phoebe silently obliged and walked over, watching her toned muscles tense under the pressure. The more she thought about it the more it angered her, April was exactly Punk's type, of course Phoebe was passionate about watching wrestling however AJ was experiencing it, she was absolutely flawless and not to mention the both of them shared everything in common, form comics, to films, to bands. They complemented each other perfectly.

"Phoebe!" Phoebe shook out of her thoughts and realised AJ was struggling, Phoebe barely managed to lift off the weight however she felt extremely guilty.

"I am so so sorry April."

"Goddamnit Phoebe, what the fuck?"

"I'm sorry, erm," her attention turned towards the door as she noticed Kofi, Cena, Punk and Sheamus walk into the gym, "April now's your chance."

AJ's attention turned towards what Phoebe was talking about, "I can't go **now**. I'm all sweaty."

"He doesn't give a fuck about what you look like and for what it's worth, I think you're stunning." AJ's face softened into a smile, quickly checking her appearance in the mirror, wiping the sweat off of her brow she skipped towards Punk. Phoebe watched in exasperation as she saw AJ twirl her hair, batting her eyelashes at Punk, there was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach however she knew it was wrong for her to feel like this, she had a date with Nick for god sake. Punk glanced at Phoebe who stared at both of them in the distance, he gave her a quick smirk before turning his attention back to AJ, she couldn't lip read but Phoebe could pretty much tell when AJ told Punk about her feelings. She watched his eyes widen and his eyebrows raised, he first scratched his beard then his neck. A couple of moments later AJ returned back to Phoebe, unable to read her face.

"We're leaving." April spoke abruptly.

"What happened?"

"I said, **we're leaving**."

Phoebe watched AJ speed walk away from her, she stood in bemusement, truthfully she didn't like the fact that AJ had a thing for Punk however seeing her react like this was not what she wanted. Phoebe glanced back at Punk who had just jumped onto a cross trainer, she casually walked up to him and leaned against the opposite mirror, his face beamed as she grinned back.

"Thanks for the note this morning, I don't appreciate waking up alone," Punk joked.

"Not used to one night stands? Shocking."

"Straight-edge. It's in my blood, bitch."

"Erm, Punk. What was that?"

"What was what?"

"With April, just then?"

"That's none of your business." Punk spoke flatly.

"Are you kidding me right now? She's my **friend**, she told me what she was going to tell you and now she's fucking pissed for some reason, what did you say to her?"

Sighing heavily, Punk stopped his machine, "I told her I wasn't interested in her."

"What? Why?"

"Because I like someone else."

"**Who**?"

"Now **that's **none of your business."

Punk placed his Beats headphones back on his head, continuing with his exercise routine, now Phoebe was intrigued, who did Punk like? Did she know who this person was? Maybe he made it up because he didn't like AJ like that? Phoebe waved him goodbye and made her way back outside to see AJ shivering outside, a single tear rolled down her face. Without speaking she walked over and wrapped her arms around her, embracing her in a warm hug.

"Don't cry April. He'll come around, don't worry."

"You can't make someone like you, it's just impossible."

"Isn't it Matt's birthday bash this Friday?"

"Yeah?" AJ sniffled.

"Well, we're going shopping on Thursday and we're going to make Punk eat his words. Now what do you say?"

AJ peaked up at Phoebe, her lashes wet with tears. She was convinced that the person that Punk liked was Phoebe, however if that was the case Phoebe seemed to have been oblivious, she had never been so glad to have her as a friend. She could only nod as she knew that if she spoke all that would come out would be sobs. AJ was certainly not the crying type however seeing her so vulnerable and weak showed Phoebe what effect Punk had on women, he was a heartbreaker, a lady killer. She knew at that moment she was obliged to hate him however it seemed to have done the opposite effect, she had found him ten times more attractive and couldn't resist getting a quick peak at Punk's bare chest, muscles, everything. It definitely was the bad boy personna that he pulled off so well.

Smackdown was in an hour and Phoebe had tons of time to kill, everyone was preparing for their match and god knows where Punk was, she decided on doing a full circle around the arena checking out the hustling and bustling that went on backstage. It felt good to not have work for once, since she had been working constantly for months and although she loved it, everyone needed a break at some point. She was excited to see Punk and Bryan have a match, something for the indie fans as well as the WWE fans, they were both incredible in the ring and for it to be on Friday Night Smackdown would certainly do wonders for the ratings. She walked past to Stephanie's office, who seemed to be working away hard at her desk, Phoebe didn't want to disturb her and carried on walking away until she heard her name being called.

"Phoebe? Could you come here please?" Intrigued she walked back and stepped into the room to see Stephanie stood by the door, making sure no one was around she closed the door shut and locked it securely.

"Phoebe? You're my best writer on the team."

"Thank you Stephanie," she replied flattered.

"Now, as you know Raw 1,000 is coming up and as you know the Rock is being scheduled to make an appearance which leads to Punk's heel turn, yes?"

"Yes?" The Rock? How fucking fantastic.

"Right well, we can't **just** have the Rock, we're gonna need something more, something exciting, something **extreme**."

"So what do you propose?" Phoebe's intrigue increased and wanted to know what Stephanie was getting at.

"I want to bring Lita to the Raw 1,000 episode."

Phoebe stepped back, hoping she heard her right. Did she just say that, **she wanted Lita to be on Raw**? Did she not know what happened to Punk last summer? He was still getting over her godamnit. If Stephanie was thinking of bringing her back she was out of her mind.

"You can't Steph. Sorry, I'm putting my foot down. Punk will be livid. You can't."

"I know I know, it's just, she'd be _perfect_. Especially with Heath's storyline at the moment, it would be the best to bring her back you know. She legitimately revolutionised the Diva's division."

"Stephanie I'm sorry, I just can't let you do that, why did you bring me in here alone anyway? You're not thinking of pitching this to the Board are you?" Phoebe could not keep the disgust out of her voice, she couldn't believe she was even insinuating this.

"Well, now that I've heard your opinion, I don't think it's wise."

"No Steph, It isn't. Unless you want a death wish from Punk, I really wouldn't recommend it. Now if you will excuse me," Phoebe left the room without saying goodbye, regardless of Stephanie's attempts she hastily made her exit. Sh couldn't believe what she just heard however was more than glad she confided in her first instead of suggesting it to the board or even Vince. Vince showed no mercy and probably would have gone with it regardless of Punk's history with her. The mere mention of her name angered Phoebe and had the sudden urge to see Punk. At times her heart ached for him, Punk would never know but couldn't imagine how he would feel if the powers above decided on bringing Amy to the Raw 1,000. Increasing her speed she eventually found Punk's room, knocking rapidly she received no answer. Knocked again, and no answer. Phoebe assumed that he wasn't in his room however as she was about to walk away she heard a chair being knocked over. She stepped back towards the door hesitantly she took hold of the handle, turning it she stepped into the room.

Her eyes widened, her heart stopping for just a second. She watched as Punk's hands settled on AJ's ass, cupping it softly; her hands were tangled in his ungelled hair, combing through the thin strands. She watched the both of them kiss passionately, sharing an intense lip lock. Phoebe tried to make a quick escape however the two broke apart and suddenly everything became uncomfortable.

"Erm, I'm really sorry I didn't mean to interrupt, I erm – just really needed to tell Punk that he has a meeting with creative in Stamford next Wednesday, it's about Raw 1,000." Phoebe thought it was a good enough excuse however her eyes had met Punk's olive green ones, and she suddenly felt as if they were the only two people on Earth. His eyes softened, almost apologetic, **what did he have to apologize for, him and AJ were perfect together**, Phoebe turned away not knowing where else to look.

"I can't wait to see what you guys have planned for Raw 1,000."

"It's ages away April, but you know we've got to start now."

"I hope I'm in it," AJ winked, if only she knew Phoebe thought.

"Phoebe knows what she's doing," Punk smirked in her direction, their eyes meeting again this time Phoebe grinned back.

"I'll leave you guys to it, sorry I interrupted," she sent a wink to AJ and closed the door behind her, the smile on her face began to ache and the sudden urge to punch someone had erupted inside of her. She didn't understand where the feeling of affection towards Punk came from? She like **Nick**, Nick was the guy that was taking her out on Friday, Nick was the one that actually liked her in that way. Punk wasn't her guy, she wasn't what Punk wanted clearly. She needed to compose herself, remove any feelings she had for Punk because he was officially now with AJ, and there was nothing she could do about it.


End file.
